D/awsorti 


er 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING 


ROD   AND    REEL 


FOB 


TROUT  AND  SALMON. 


BY    GEORGE   DAWSON. 


He  that  hopes  to  be  a  good  Angler  must  not  only  bring  an  inquiring,  search- 
ing, observing  wit,  but  he  must  bring  a  large  measure  of  hope  and  patience,  and 
a  love  and  propensity  to  the  art  itself;  but  having  once  got  and  practised  it, 
then  doubt  not  but  that  Angling  will  be  so  pleasant  that  it  will  prove 'to  be, 
like  Virtue,  a  reward  to  itself. —  WALTON. 


NEW  YORK: 

SHELDON   &    COMPANY, 

8  MURRAY  STREET. 

187G. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of   Congress,  in   the   year  eighteen 
hundred  and  seventy-six, 

BY   GEORGE   DAWSON, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


WEED,   PARSONS  AND  COMPANY, 

PRINTERS    AND    ST ERE O T Y P E R 8  , 

ALBANY,  ST.  Y. 


PKEFAOE. 

Most  of  the  sketches  which  make  up  this  volume 
were  published  in  the  Albany  Evening  Journal,  at 
long  intervals,  during  the  past  three  years.  Their 
title  indicates  their  character  and  purpose,  namely, 
to  set  forth  the  "  Pleasures  of  Angling  "  by  detail- 
ing some  of  the  incidents  common  to  its  pursuit. 
If  they  shall  afford  any  pleasure  to  the  "simple 
wise  men  "  who  enjoy  the  innocent  pastime  and  the 
quiet  repose  which  no  other  recreation  affords  in 
such  full  measure,  I  will  not  regret  that  they  have 
been  given  a  form  which  was  not  originally  in- 
tended. 

G.  D. 


M842752 

« 


No  life,  my  honest  scholar,  no  lif e  so  happy  and  so  pleasant  as  the 
life  of  a  well-governed  angler;  for  when  the  lawyer  is  swallowed  up 
with  business,  and  the  statesman  is  preventing  or  contriving  plots, 
then  we  sit  on  cowslip  banks,  hear  the  birds  sing,  and  possess  our- 
selves in  as  much  quietness  as  these  silent  silver  streams,  which  we 
now  see  glide  so  quietly  by  us.  —  [Izaak  Walton. 


Abused  mortals,  did  you  know 

Where  joy,  heart's-ease  and  comforts  grow, 

You'd  scorn  proud  towers, 

And  seek  them  in  these  bowers, 

Where  winds,  sometimes,  our  woods  perhaps  may  shake, 
But  blust'ring  care  could  never  tempest  make, 

Nor  murmurs  e'er  come  nigh  us, 

Saving  of  fountains  that  glide  by  us. 

—  [Charles  Cotton. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE. 

Prefatory  and  apologetic 1 

Angling  as  a  lasting  pleasure 3 

The  higher  and  lower  branches  of  angling 4 

Preparation,  anticipation  and  recollection 5 

CHAPTER  II. 

Angling  and  anglers  vindicated 8 

Not  all  of  fishing  to  fish 10 

Love  of  angling  no  proof  of  sanctifi cation 12 

Unselfish  courtesy 13 

CHAPTER  III. 

Angling  as  a  medicine 14 

Prevention  better  than  cure 17 

The  duty  of  recreation 18 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Re-stocking  salmon  waters  in  the  Provinces 20 

Causes  of  depletion 21 

What  New  York  is  doing ..-.  22 

Fishing  regulations  in  the  Provinces 24 


Tin  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

PAGE. 

Fish  breeding 29 

What  should  be  done  to  replenish  American  waters. ...  32 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Hobbies  and  some  of  their  riders 35 

Rarity  of  salmon  anglers  in  the  United  States 38 

Some  of  the  experts  of  New  Brunswick 40 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Realization  of  a  long-deferred  hope 44 

Whom  I  went  with 46 

Salmon  fishing  outfit 46 

How  we  reached  the  Cascapedia 48 

Scenery  en  route 49 

Arrival  and  reception 51 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Our  movement  up  the  river 5'2 

The  Indian  canoes  and  river  rapids 53 

Our  first  camp 55 

Chief  Justices  Ritchie  and  Gray 56 

A  novel  torch-light  procession 58 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Ticket-of-leave  from  the  General 60 

Abundance  of  trout 61 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  IX 

PAGE. 

My  first  casts  for  salmon 62 

Effect  of  my  first  salmon  rise 63 

Fight  with  my  first  salmon 64 

Victory 66 

CHAPTEK  X. 

All  hands  at  work 68 

A  clogged  reel 71 

A  provoking  position 72 

The  chances  against  killing  fish 75 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Salmon  habits 76 

Do  salmon  feed  in  fresh  water 77 

The  largest  fish  of  the  season  breaks  off . . .   78 

The  weight  of  some  of  our  fish 81 

Shot  at  a  moose 82 

End  of  our  first  season 88 

CHAPTER  XII. 

An  ancient  angler's  kit 84 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Brief  tribute  to  a  departed  friend 94 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Second  visit  to  the  Cascapedia 97 

Scenery  coveted  by  anglers 99 


X  TABLE   OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

PAGE. 

Who  went  a-fishing 101 

Invalid  anglers * 102 

A  pleasant  camp 105 

The  Indian  gaffer 106 

The  best  time  to  fish  for  salmon 107 

A  delicate  morsel 109 

How  to  be  comfortable  in  camp 110 

The  angling  advantages  of  preserved  waters 112 

The  attractions  of  forest  solitudes 113 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  pleasant  morning 116 

Courtesy  and  self-sacrifice 117 

Judge  Fullerton  as  an  angler 120 

The  Judge's  first  salmon 121 

Dun  trying  to  reel  in  a  fifty-ton  bowlder 123 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Difference  in  the  play  of  fish 126 

A  pleasant  disappointment 128 

The  wisdom  of  judicious  commendation 129 

Instances  of  mistakes  in  gaffing 130 

How  to  treat  leaping  salmon 131 

The  music  of  the  reel-click 132 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  attractions  of  fly-fishing 135 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  XI 

PAGE. 

Trout  fishing  in  salmon  waters 136 

Sea  trout  and  brook  trout 137 

"DoFishHear?" 138 

Arrival  of  Gen.  Arthur 139 

A  novel  merry-making 141 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  search  after  solitude 143 

An  eccentric  fish 146 

An  upset  and  its  consequences 148 

English  anglers 150 

CHAPTER  XX. 

A  short  essay  on  fly-casting 151 

\ 
CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  best  pool  on  the  river 159 

Anglers  covet  pleasant  surroundings 160 

A  forest  picture 162 

An  upset  in  "  Lazy  Bogan  " 164 

A  narrow  escape 166 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Going  up  the  river 168 

A  thunder  storm 170 

Our  champion  match-lighter 171 

The  early  morning  fishing  theory  discussed 172 

Running  the  rapids 174 


XH  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

PAGE. 

At  the  Forks 176 

A  long  fight  with  a  gamy  fish 178 

A  salmon  quadrille 179 

Patience  rewarded 181 

A  torch-light  view  of  the  salmon  pools 182 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Forest  game 187 

A  bear  chase 188 

Shot  at  a  moose , 190 

A  gold-seeker 191 

A  word  about  fishing  tackle 192 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Leaving  camp 196 

A  bit  of  rhapsody , 198 

Forest  life  not  adapted  to  all  temperaments 201 

A  primitive  people 203 

Homeward  bound 204 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Trout  fishing  in  the  Adirondacks  in  1873 207 

The  best  times  to  fish 209 

Trolling  as  a  pastime 210 

The  North  Woods  as  a  State  park    211 

Why  anglers  avoid  a  crowd 212 


TABLE   OF    CONTENTS.  XIII 

PAGE. 

Martin's 213 

Invalids  in  the  woods 214 

A  late  spring  makes  late  fishing 215 

The  high  dam  at  Setting-Pole  rapids 217 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Trolling  on  the  lower  Saranac 219 

The  pleasures  of  exploration 220 

Eccentricities  of  memory 222 

Long  waiting  for  a  wary  fish 225 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Musings  of  silent  men 228 

A  pleasant  place  to  cast 231 

Cockney  fishermen  .    232 

Trout  haunts  at  different  seasons 234 

Bartlett's  and  Corey's 237 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Lumbering 239 

An  old  resident  of  the  woods 241 

Two  hours'  sport  at  "  the  rapids  " 243 

Reminiscences  of  Gen.  Spinner 245 

A  fly  theory  exploded 247 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Setting-Pole  rapids 249 

A  few  angling  reminiscences 250 


XIV  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

PAGE. 

Stale  fish 257 

In  a  bad  fix  at  Pearsefield  falls 258 

Capture  of  a  four  pound  trout  in  Hitching's  pond 260 

The  trout  in  Bog  river  and  Tupper's  lake 262 

Notable  places  visited 263 

Capture  of  a  seven  pound  trout  in  Rangely  lake 264 

Reel  up 264 


FIRST  VISIT  TO  THE  CASCAPEDIA. 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 


CHAPTEK  I. 


PREFATORY  AND  APOLOGETIC. 

To  al  you  that  ben  vertuous :  gentyll :  and  free  borne  I 
wryte  and  make  this  fymple  treatife  folowynge  :  by  whyche 
ye  may  haue  the  full  craft  of  anglynge  to  dyfport  you  at  your 
lufte,  to  the  entent  that  your  aege  maye  the  more  floure  and 
the  more  longer  to  endure.  —  [Treatife  of  Fyfjhynge  with  an 
Angle,  1496. 


^HATEVEK  pleasure  a  veteran 
may  find  in  occasionally  recount- 
ing his  deeds  of  valor,  the  re- 
hearsal at  some  time  becomes 
monotonous.  So  with  these  talks 
on  Angling.  They  were  well 
enough  years  ago,  but  they  seem 
to  the  writer  thereof  hardly  in 
harmony  with  the  assumed  gra- 
vity of  "furrows,"  "wrinkles" 
and  "  hoary  locks."  Not  that  a  true  angler  ever 
passes  the  line  which  takes  him  into  the  land  of 
ailments  and  decrepitude.  It  is  the  glory  of  the 
art  that  its  disciples  never  grow  old.  The  muscles 
may  relax  and  the  beloved  rod  become  a  burden. 


2  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

but  the  tire  of  enthusiasm  kindled  in  youth  is 
never  extinguished.  The  time,  however,  does 
come  when  one  is  reluctant  to  parade  the  sources 
of  even  his  innocent  pleasures,  except,  perhaps,  to 
those  "  simple  wise  men  "  whom  he  knows  to  be 
in  sympathy  with  him,  and  who  can  appreciate 
the  too  generally  unappreciated  truth  that  that 
pleasure  is  only  worthy  the  pursuit  of  men  or  of 
angels  which  "  worketh  no  evil." 

But  so  many  kind  friends,  who  find  delight  in 
the  pursuit  of  the  gentle  art,  have  importuned 
me  to  forego  my  purpose  to  be  silent,  and  to 
permit  them,  just  this  once,  to  enjoy  what  they 
are  pleased  to  characterize  as  "  the  pleasure  they 
derive  "  from  these  rambling  jottings,  that  I  have 
reluctantly  consented  to  gratify  the  few  with 
whom  I  know  I  shall  be  en  rapport  from  the  start, 
at  the  hazard  of  displeasing  the  many  whose  high- 
est conceptions  of  angling  have  been  derived  from 
that  libelous  old  adage  of  "  a  rod  and  line,  with  a 
fool  at  one  end  and  a  fish  at  the  other,"  and  who, 
because  of  this  misconception,  have  neither  sym- 
pathy with  nor  respect  for  a  recreation  which  the 
wisest  and  gentlest  and  most  lovable  men  of  all 
ages  have  recognized  as  the  best  and  simplest  and 
most  effective  medicine  for  mind  and  body  which 
a  kind  Providence  has  vouchsafed  erring  and  ailing 
humanity. 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  6 

Although  my  last  was  my  thirty-fifth  annual 
visit  to  angling  waters,  it  was  anticipated  with 
greater  interest  and  with  higher  hopes  of  quiet 
enjoyment  than  any  which  had  preceded  it.  And 
this,  as  all  biography  teaches,  has  been  the  experi- 
ence of  all  true  lovers  of  the  angle.  Sir  Hum- 
phrey Davy  retained  his  enthusiasm  to  the  last. 
"When,  like  Jacob,  he  had  to  lean  heavily  upon  his 
staff,  the  author  of  Noctes  Ambrosiana  would 
wade  his  favorite  streams  with  all  the  pleasure  of 
his  early  manhood ;  and  long  after  every  other  de- 
light had  waxed  and  waned,  this  remained  as  the 
veritable  elixir  of  perpetual  youth.  "  Kit  North's  " 
daughter  (Mrs.  Gordon)  gives  this  charming  pic- 
ture of  him  when  a  hopeless  invalid : 

"And  then  he  gathered  around  him,  when  the  spring 
morning  brought  gay  jets  of  sunshine  into  the  little  room 
where  he  lay,  the  relics  of  a  youthful  passion,  one  that  with 
him  never  grew  old.  It  was  an  affecting  sight  to  see  him 
busy,  nay  quite  absorbed,  with  the  fishing  tackle  about  his 
bed,  propped  up  with  pillows — his  noble  head,  yet  glorious 
with  its  flowing  locks,  carefully  combed  by  attentive  hands, 
and  falling  on  each  side  of  his  unfaded  face.  How  neatly 
he  picked  out  each  elegantly  dressed  fly  from  its  little 
bunch,  drawing  it  with  trembling  hand  across  the  white 
coverlet,  and  then,  replacing  it  in  his  pocket-book,  he 
would  tell,  ever  and  anon,  of  the  streams  he  used  to  fish 
in  of  old,  and  of  the  deeds  he  had  performed  in  his  child- 
hood and  youth." 


4  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

And  the  experience  of  the  past  is  that  of  to-day 
—  not  among  the  eminent  alone,  but  among  the 
lowly  as  well,  who  find  pure  delight  and  refresh- 
ing recreation  in  quiet  forests  and  by  the  side  of 
crystal  waters,  with  no  other  companions  than  rod 
and  reel,  singing  birds  and  summer  zephyrs.  "  As 
Dr.  Boteler  said  of  strawberries,  i  Doubtless  God 
could  have  made  a  better  berry,  but  doubtless  God 
never  did ;'  and  so,  if  I  may  be  judge,  God  did 
never  make  a  more  calm,  quiet,  innocent  recrea- 
tion than  Angling." 

But  it  would  be  an  inexcusable  exaggeration  to 
assume  that  this  strong  liking  grows  upon  those 
who  only  engage  in  the  grosser  departments  of  the 
art.  The  greatest  enthusiast  soon  wearies  of  bait 
and  troll  as  lures  for  pike  and  pickerel,  or  sun  fish 
and  perch.  As  coarse  food  palls  on  the  palate,  so 
the  love  of  angling  soon  dies  out  unless  it  reaches 
up  to  the  higher  plane  of  trout  and  salmon,  lured  by 
the  tiny  fly,  kept  in  check  by  the  gossamer-like 
leader,  and  conquered  by  the  skillful  manipulation 
of  the  slender  rod,  which  curves  to  the  pressure  as 
gracefully  as  the  tall  pine  to  the  blast  of  the  tem- 
pest. It  is  only  in  this  higher  department  of  the 
art  that  the  angler  finds  the  witchery  of  his  voca- 
tion and  the  octegenarian  the  ecstacy  which  gives 
to  him  ever  increasing  pleasure  and  delight.  If 
the  fascinating  art  had  no  other  commendation 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  5 

than  this,  that  the  pleasure  which  it  affords  never 
abates  but  grows  in  attractiveness  and  intensity 
with  every  repetition,  it  would  be  worthy  of  culti- 
vation, and  should  commend  itself  to  all  who  deem 
it  possible  for  old  age  to  have  some  more  tangible 
joy  than  that  afforded  by  the  barren  recollections 
of  the  distant  past. 

Nor  is  it  alone  during  the  all  too  brief  period 
in  which  he  is  actually  engaged  in  whipping  the 
rivers  and  bagging  the  spoil  that  the  angler  de- 
rives delight  from  his  art.  Weeks  before  it  is 
practicable  to  visit  "  the  woods,"  or  proper  to  even 
attempt  to  "entice  the  finny  tribe  from  their 
aqueous  element,"  the  chronic  angler  finds  exquis- 
ite delectation  in  the  needful  preparation  for  his 
sojourn 

Where  lakes  and  rills  and  rivulets  do  flow; 
The  lofty  woods,  the  forests  wide  and  long, 

Adorned  with  leaves,  and  branches  fresh  and  green, 
In  whose  cool  bowers  the  birds  with  many  a  song 

Do  welcome  with  their  choir  the  Summer's  Queen; 
The  meadows  fair,  where  Flora's  gifts  among 

Are  intermixed,  with  verdant  grass  between ; 
The  silver-scaled  fish  that  softly  swim 
Within  the  sweet  brook's  crystal  watery  stream. 

The  recollection  of  what  has  been  and  the  an- 
ticipation of  what  is  to  be;  the  quiet  discourse 
of  men  with  like  tastes,  of  past  successes  and  of  an- 
ticipated triumphs ;  reminiscences  of  river  and 
lake  and  forest  and  camp-fire,  make  up  a  series  of 
prospective  and  retrospective  pleasures  akin  to 


b  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

those  experienced  by  the  old  soldier  fondling  his 
trusty  matchlock  and  "fighting  his  battles  o'er 
again." 

And  unpacking  one's  kit  is  like  meeting  old 
friends.  Every  marred  fly,  every  frayed  leader, 
every  well-worn  tip  and  line  and  reel,  revives 
pleasant  memories  of  river,  pool  or  camp-fire,  of 
"  rise,"  or  "  strike,"  or  struggle,  only  less  real  than 
the  reality  itself,  for  "  only  itself  can  be  its  parallel." 

No  marvel  that  apostles  and  prophets,  empe- 
rors and  kings,  philosophers  and  bishops,  soldiers 
and  statesmen,  scholars  and  poets,  and  the  quiet, 
gentle  and  contemplative  of  all  ages  and  of  all  pro- 
fessions, have  found  delight  in  angling,  or  that 
they  have  been  made  the  better  and  the  wiser,  and 
the  purer  and  the  happier,  by  its  practice.  It  brings 
its  devotee  into  close  and  intimate  communion 
with  nature.  It  takes  him  into  flowery  meads 
and  shady  woods ;  by  the  side  of  murmuring 
brooks,  silvery  cascades  and  crystal  rivers ;  through 
deep  ravines,  sentineled  by  cloud-clapped  moun- 
tains, and  into  valleys  clothed  in  vernal  beauty, 
and  made  vocal  with  rippling  waters  and  the 
warbling  of  feathered  songsters.  It  would  have 
been  strange  indeed  if  an  art  which  requires  such 
surroundings,  and  which  can  only  be  successfully 
practised  by  the  exercise  of  patience  and  a  quiet 
temper,  had  not  been  discovered  by  Sir  Henry 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  7 

Wotton  to  be  "  a  rest  to  the  mind,  a  cheerer  of 
the  spirits,  a  diverter  of  sadness,  a  calmer  of  un- 
quiet thoughts,  a  moderator  of  passions,  a  procurer 
of  contentedness ; "  or  that  what  thus  ministers 
medicine  to  the  mind  while  it  invigorates  the 
body,  should  not  prove  attractive  to  all  who 

Find  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing. 

To  many  this  prologue  may  seem  as  irrelevant 
as  angling  seems  simple  to  the  uninitiated ;  but  I 
have  been  lured  on  by  my  theme  as  I  have  often 
been  by  the  shady  banks  and  singing  waters  beside 
which  I  have  cast  my  fly  through  the  long  summer 
day,  in  sheer  forgetfulness  of  time  and  distance 
and  all  else  save  the  consciousness  of  supreme  en- 
joyment. An  angler  is,  from  necessity,  a  rambler ; 
and  if  he  wields  his  pen  as  he  makes  his  casts,  he 
must  needs  drop  his  thoughts  as  he  drops  his  leader, 
whenever  and  however  the  inspiration  of  the  mo- 
ment suggests. 


CHAPTEE  II. 


ANGLING   AND   ANGLEKS    VINDICATED. 

We  care  not  who  says, 

And  intends  it  dispraise, 
That  an  angler  to  a  fool  is  next  neighbor. 

Let  him  prate  ;  what  care  we  ; 

We're  as  honest  as  he, 
And  so  let  him  take  that  for  his  labor  ! 

—  [Charles  Cotton. 

HAT  good  Sir  Izaak  Walton  said 
two  hundred  years  ago,  of  those 
who  scoff  at  angling  as  "a 
heavy,  contemptible,  dull  recre- 
ation," is  quite  as  appropriate 
for  their  successors  of  to-day. 

"You  know,  gentlemen,  it  is  an 
easy  thing  to  scoff  at  any  art  or  recre- 
ation: a  little  wit,  mixed  with,  ill- 
nature,  confidence  and  malice,  will 
do  it ;  but  though  they  often  venture 
boldly,  yet  they  are  often  caught,  even  in  their  own  trap, 
according  to  that  of  Lucian,  the  father  of  the  family  of 
scoffers : 

'  Lucian  well  skilled  in  scoffing,  this  hath  writ : 
Friend,  that's  your  folly  which  you  think  your  wit; 
This  you  vent  oft,  void  both  of  wit  and  fear, 
Meaning  another,  when  yourself  you  jeer!  ' 

"If  to  this  you  add  what  Solomon  says  of  scoffers,  that 
*  they  are  an  abomination  to  mankind, '  let  him  that  thinks 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  9 

fit  scoff  on,  and  be  a  scoffer  still ;  but  I  account  them  ene- 
mies to  me  and  to  all  that  love  angling. 

' '  And  for  you  that  have  heard  many  grave,  serious  men 
pity  anglers,  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  there  are  many  who 
are  taken  by  others  to  be  serious  and  grave  men,  which 
we  contemn  and  pity, — men  that  are  taken  to  be  grave 
because  nature  hath  made  them  of  a  sour  complexion, 
money-getting  men,  men  that  spend  all  their  time  first  in 
getting  and  next  in  anxious  care  to  keep  it ;  men  that  are 
condemned  to  be  rich,  and  then  always  busy  or  discon- 
tented ;  for  such  poor-rich  men,  we  anglers  pity  them  per- 
fectly, and  stand  in  no  need  to  borrow  their  thoughts  to 
think  ourselves  so  happy.  No,  no,  sir,  we  enjoy  a  con- 
tentedness  above  the  reach  of  such  dispositions.  *  *  * 

u  And  for  our  '  simplicity,'  if  you  mean  by  that  a  harm- 
lessness,  or  that  simplicity  which  was  usually  found  in  the 
primitive  Christians,  who  were,  as  most  anglers  are,  quiet 
men  and  followers  of  peace — men  that  were  so  simply 
wise  as  not  to  sell  their  consciences  to  buy  riches,  and 
with  them  vexation  and  a  fear  to  die ;  if  you  mean  such 
men  as  lived  in  those  times  when  there  were  fewer  lawyers, 
when  men  might  have  had  a  lordship  conveyed  to  them 
on  a  piece  of  parchment  no  bigger  than  your  hand,  though 
several  sheets  will  not  do  it  safely  in  this  wiser  age,  —I  say, 
sir,  if  you  take  us  anglers  to  be  such  simple  men  as  I  have 
spoken  of, then  myself  and  those  of  my  profession  will  be 
glad  to  be  so  understood;  but  if  by  simplicity  you  mean 
to  express  a  general  defect  in  those  that  profess  the  excel- 
lent art  of  angling,  I  hope  in  time  to  disabuse  you,  and 
make  the  contrary  appear  so  evidently,  that,  if  you  will 
have  but  patience  to  hear  me,  I  shall  remove  all  the  antici- 
pations that  discourse,  or  time,  or  prejudice,  have  possess- 
ed you  against  that  laudable  and  ancient  art ;  for  I  know 
it  is  worthy  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  a  wise  man." 


10  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

They  are  greatly  in  error  who  suppose  that  all 
there  is  of  fishing  is  to  fish.  That  is  but  the  body 
of  the  art.  Its  soul  and  spirit  is  in  what  the  angler 
sees  and  feels  —  in  the  murmur  of  the  brook  ;  in 
the  music  of  the  birds ;  in  the  simple  beauty  of  the 
wild-flowers  which  peer  at  him  from  every  nook 
in  the  valley  and  from  every  sunny  spot  on  the 
hill-side ;  in  the  moss-covered  rock ;  in  the  ever- 
shifting  sunshine  and  shadow  which  give  ever- 
varying  beauty  to  the  sides  and  summits  of  the 
mountains ;  in  the  bracing  atmosphere  which  en- 
virons him ;  in  the  odor  of  the  pine  and  hemlock 
and  spruce  and  cedar  forests,  which  is  sweeter  to 
the  senses  of  the  true  woodsman  than  all  the  arti- 
ficially compounded  odors  which  impregnate  the 
boudoirs  of  artificial  life ;  in  the  spray  of  the  water- 
fall ;  in  the  grace  and  curve  and  dash  of  the  swift- 
rushing  current ;  in  the  whirl  of  the  foaming  eddy ; 
in  the  transparent  depths  of  the  shaded  pool  where, 
in  mid-summer,  the  speckled  trout  and  silver  salm- 
on "most  do  congregate  ;"  in  the  revived  appetite ; 
in  the  repose  which  comes  to  him  while  reclining 
upon  his  sweet-smelling  couch  of  hemlock  boughs ; 
in  the  hush  of  the  woods  when  moon  and  stars 
shine  in  upon  him  through  his  open  tent  or  bark- 
oovered  shanty  ;  in  the  morning  song  of  the  robin ; 
in  the  rapid-coursing  blood,  quickened  by  the  pure 
unstinted  mountain  air  which  imparts  to  the  lungs 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  11 

the  freshness  and  vigor  of  its  own  vitality  ;  in  the 
crackling  of  the  newly  kindled  camp-fire  ;  in  the 
restored  health,  and  in  the  thousand  other  indescri- 
bable and  delightful  realities  and  recollections  of 
the  angler's  camp-life  on  lake  or  river  during  the 
season  when  it  is  right  to  "  go  a-fishing."  It  is 
these,  and  not  alone  or  chiefly  the  mere  act  of 
catching  fish,  which  render  tl  e  gentle  art  a  source 
of  constant  and  ever-growing  pleasure.  But  to  at- 
tain unto  the  full  measure  of  delight  which  the 
pastime  affords,  the  angler  must  not  be  merely  an 
expert  in  the  mechanism  of  the  art.  Unless  he 
can,  withal,  appreciate  the  beauties  of  nature,  and 
"  look  from  nature  up  to  nature's  God,"  he  has 
neither  the  spirit  of  the  old  masters  of  the  angle, 
nor  a  just  comprehension  of  its  refining  and  ele- 
vating possibilities. 

While  plying  his  vocation  in  these  quiet  places, 
with  no  noisy  babblers  to  break  in  upon  his  medi- 
tations, with  every  nerve  thrilling  with  the  intens- 
est  satisfaction,  with  the  mind  as  free  from  rasp- 
ing care  as  the  pure  atmosphere  in  which  he  is  en- 
veloped is  from  the  miasma  of  the  far-off  lagoon, 
and  with  heart  and  brain  in  harmonious  accord  and 
sympathy  with  the  peaceful  serenity  of  the  scene 
and  the  occasion,  is  it  strange  that  sometimes  he 
makes  the  old  woods  ring  with  his  shouts  in  the  very 
abandon  of  delight  ?  It  may  not  be  that  these  rap- 


12  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

tures  come  to  all  the  brethren  of  the  angle,  but 
they  come  in  full  measure  to  but  few  besides  ;  be- 
cause the  true  angler,  "  born  so,"  as  good  Sir  Izaak 
hath  it,  has  within  himself,  more  than  those  who 
have  no  sympathy  with  his  craft,  the  elements 
which  are  necessary  to  bring  him  thus  en  rapport 
with  Nature.  And  I  say  all  this,  not  to  elevate 
the  art  above  what  is  becoming,  but  to  show  that 
the  angler,  in  the  quiet  pursuit  of  his  craft,  finds 
other  attractions,  purer  and  higher  and  more  ennob- 
ling, than  the  mere  act  of  taking  fish.  Let  not 
those  who  are  so  "  of  the  earth  earthy  "  as  to  be 
unable  to  find  any  other  pleasure  in  this  pastime 
than  that  derived  from  "  striking  "  and  "  killing  " 
their  prey,  write  themselves  down  as  the  disciples 
of  the  quiet  and  gentle  Father  of  the  art.  For 
they  are  "  bastards  and  not  sons,"  and  merit  a 
place  rather  among  the  pot-hunters  of  the  guild 
than  among  its  appreciative  disciples. 

But  fondness  for  fishing  is  no  proof  of  sanctifi- 
cation.  The  selfish  man  at  home  is  selfish  in  his 
pleasures ;  and  there  is  no  pastime  where  one  is 
oftener  tempted  to  be  selfish  than  in  angling. 
Few,  indeed,  are  those  who  would  send  a  friend  to 
a  favorite  pool  before  he  himself  had  tried  it.  To 
do  so  is  the  very  highest  proof  of  magnanimity. 
I  have  known  a  few  such  in  my  experience  —  men 
who,  if  asked  for  their  coat  would  give  their  cloak 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  13 

also ;  but  they  are  so  rare  that  I  can  count  them 
on  my  fingers.  There  comes  up  before  me,  as  I 
write,  the  grandest  specimen  of  unselfishness,  in 
this  regard,  who  ever  cast  a  fly  or  kindled  a  camp- 
fire.  If  he  chanced  to  strike  a  "  school,"  or  dis- 
covered other  signs  of  abundant  sport,  his  cheery 
shout  would  always  indicate  to  his  companions  his 
desire  that  they  might  share  his  good  fortune. 
And  this  was  but  a  type  of  his  character.  He  was 
and  still  is  a  living  illustration  of  the  scripture  as- 
surance that  it  is  "  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive."  And  I  have  just  received  a  note  from 
another  friend  of  kindred  spirit,  who  knew  no  way 
by  which  he  could  better  emphasize  his  apprecia- 
tion of  a  trifling  favor  than  to  say  :  "  It  will  give 
me  great  pleasure  to  reciprocate  your  kindness; 
and  should  we  ever  again  meet  in  the  forest,  and 
beside  a  pool  where  the  speckled  beauties  await 
our  deceptive  lure,  I  will  yield  it,  and  grant  to 
you  its  undisturbed  possession."  And  he  would 
keep  his  promise  ;  for  thirty  years  of  angling  has 
rendered  him  as  unselfish  in  his  amusements  as  he 
is  genial  in  his  social  life. 


CHAPTER  III. 


ANGLING   AS    A   MEDICINE. 

Yf  a  man  lacke  leche  or  medicyne  he  fhall  make  thre 
thynges  his  leche  and  medicyne :  and  he  fhall  nede  neuer  no 
moo.  The  fyrfte  of  theym  is  a  mery  thought.  The  feconde  is 
labour  not  outrageo.  The  thyrde  is  dyete  mefurable.  Fyrfte 
that  yf  a  man  wyll  euer  more  be  in  mery  thoughtes  and  have 
a  glad  fpyryte,  he  mult  efchevve  all  contraryous  company,  and 
all  places  of  debate  where  he  myghte  haue  any  occafyons  of 
malencoly.  And  yf  he  woll  haue  a  labour  not  outrageo 
he  muft  thenne  ordeynehim  to  his  hertys  eafe  and  pleafaunce, 
vvythout  ftudye,  penfyfneffe  or  traueyle,  a  mery  occupacyon, 
which  may  rejoyce  his  herte  :  and  in  vvhyche  his  fpyrytes  may 
haue  a  mery  delyte.  And  yf  he  woll  be  dyetyd  mefurably,  he 
muft  efchewe  all  places  of  ryotte  whyche  is  caufe  of  furfette 
and  fykneffe:  and  he  muft  drawe  him  to  places  of  fwete  ayre 
and  hungry :  and  ete  nourifhable  meetes  and  dyffyable  alfo. 
—  \Treatife  of  Fyfjhynge  with  an  Angle,  1496. 


CONCUR  with  those  who  speak 
of  the  pastime  of  angling  as  a 
medicine,  not  alone  from  my  own 
experience,  although  that  may 
count  for  something,  but  from 
the  great  number  of  strong  men 
with  whom  I  have  been  brought 
in  intimate  contact  during  my 
more  than  thirty  years  of  out- 
door life,  and  who,  from  their 
youth  up,  have  found  nothing  so  invigorating  as 
the  pure  air  of  the  mountains ;  nothing  so  sooth- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  15 

ing,  after  the  toil  and  worry  and  fret  of  business, 
as  the  silence  of  the  woods ;  nothing  so  pervading 
in  its  mellowing  influence  upon  nerve  and  brain 
and  spirit  as  the  pleasant  murmur  of  the  flowing 
river;  nothing  so  health-giving  as  the  aroma  of 
nature's  grand  forest  laboratory ;  and  nothing  so 
exhilarating  as  the  rise  and  swirl  and  rush  of 
trout  or  salmon.  Those  whom  I  have  thus  known, 
with  scarcely  an  exception,  have  preserved  the 
vigor  of  lusty  youth  longer  and  more  uniformly 
than  their  contemporaries  who  have  sought  other 
means  of  recuperation  and  other  sources  of  enjoy- 
ment;— from  which  I  infer  either  that  few  but 
those  who  are  blest  with  robust  constitutions  ever 
acquire  a  passion  for  angling,  or  that  the  pastime 
itself  creates  the  healthful  vitality  which  insures  a 
vigorous  old  age.  But  whether  the  pastime  is 
merely  preservative  or  is  really  curative  in  its 
medicinal  effects,  it  is  certainly  beneficent,  and 
deserves  the  high  place  it  holds  in  the  affections 
of  its  happy,  healthy  and  enthusiastic  votaries. 

However  angling  may  be  classed  by  others  — 
whether  as  a  fool's  pastime  or  as  a  wise  man's  recre- 
ation—  I  have  always  found  great  pleasure  in 
recognizing  what  its  indulgence  costs  me  as  so 
much  saved  from  my  doctor's  bill.  And  as  my 
doctor,  who  passed  his  seventy-fifth  year  before 
"  the  grasshopper  became  a  burden,"  was  himself 


16  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

a  life-long  disciple  of  the  gentle  art,  lie  never 
chicled  me  for  my  tastes  nor  coveted  what  was 
kept  from  him  by  their  indulgence.  And  now, 
when  this  "  beloved  physician  "  is  "  wearing  awa' 
to  the  land  o'  the  leal "  as  gently  and  as  peacefully 
as  the  summer's  sun  retires  to  its  rosy  couch,  his 
eye  receives  new  lustre  as  he  recalls  the  pleasant 
hours  of  his  early  youth  while  angling  in  the  lochs 
and  burns  of  his  native  land  and  in  the  brooks  and 
rivers  of  his  adopted  country. 

And  just  here  is  where  too  many  of  our  people 
make  their  great  mistake.  They  seek  recreation 
to  regain  health,  not  to  preserve  it.  If  half  the 
time  were  given  to  keep  strong  that  is  consumed  in 
the  hopeless  effort  to  get  strong,  there  would  be 
fewer  invalids  in  the  land  —  fewer  men  prematurely 
aged,  and  fewer  women  bent  and  broken  in  the 
midst  of  their  years.  "  Prevention  is  better  than 
cure,"  and  no  class  of  men  are  more  fortunate  than 
those  whose  love  of  angling  frequently  draws  them 
from  the  wearisome  cares  of  business  arid  the  suf- 
focating atmosphere  of  absorbing  trade,  into  the 
green  fields  and  shaded  forests,  where  brook  and 
river  and  lake  afford  ample  pastime  and  healthful 
recreation. 

I  think  our  people  are  improving  in  this  regard. 
There  are  more  who  appreciate  the  curative  pro- 
perties of  change  and  repose  to-day  than  ever  before ; 
and  the  time  is  coming  when  the  expenses  of  a 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  17 

"brief  vacation,  whether  to  hamlet  or  palace,  to  lake 
or  river,  to  forest  or  sea-shore,  to  valley  or  moun- 
tain, will  enter  into  every  one's  calculations  as  reg- 
ularly as  any  other  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  If,  as 
some  allege,  Americans  have  degenerated  in  mus- 
cular development  and  in  general  physique,  it  may 
be  attributed  to  their  intense  and  unceasing  appli- 
cation to  business,  rather  than  to  any  thing  deterio- 
rating in  our  climate.  It  is  quite  as  true  of  the 
worker,  whether  of  brain  or  of  muscle,  who  never 
gives  himself  a  day's  real  rest  in  a  score  of  years, 
as  it  is  of  the  wicked,  "  that  he  shall  not  live  out 
half  his  days."  Those  who  deliberately  and  from 
a  settled  purpose  to  get  gain  at  any  cost,  wear  them- 
selves out  prematurely,  are  foremost  among  "  the 
wicked  "  referred  to ;  and  the  admonition  is  for 
their  benefit  quite  as  much  as  for  the  epicure  or 
debauchee. 

I  remember,  many  years  ago,  while  "  lying  round 
loose  "  for  a  few  days  at  Lebanon,  meeting  a  friend 
who  accosted  me  with,  "  Why,  D.,  what  are  you 
doing  here  \  I  had  not  heard  you  were  ailing,  and 
supposed  you  enjoyed  perfect  health."  "  Yes," 
I  replied,  "  thanks  to  a  kind  Providence,  I  am 
never  really  sick,  and  to-day  I  am  as  free  from  ail- 
ment as  a  sky-lark  from  bronchitis."  "  Well,  I  am 
glad  to  hear  it,  certainly  ;  but  if  you  are  perfectly 
well,  why  are  you  here  ? "  "  To  keep  well,  judge." 
I  will  never  forget  the  shadow  of  sadness  which 
3 


18  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

crossed  his  care-worn  countenance  as  he  replied : 
"  Yours  is  the  true  philosophy.  I  have  been  work- 
ing very  hard  for  thirty  years,  and  this  is  my  first 
vacation ;  and  I  am  here  now,  not  from  choice  but 
from  necessity.  My  doctor  tells  me  I  have  impaired 
my  constitution  by  over-work,  and  that  my  only 
hope  is  rest.  But  I  fear  I  have  postponed  this  rest 
too  long.  You  and  those  like  you,  who  will  have 
your  recreation  whatever  becomes  of  business,  are 
the  wisest  men.  You  rest  to  preserve  health  and 
not  to  regain  it.  I  am  seeking  what,  by  my  too 
close  application  to  business,  I  have  prematurely 
lost ;  and  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  I  shall  find 
what  I  am  seeking."  And  his  fear  was  prophetic. 
He  died  in  the  midst  of  his  years  —  a  man  exem- 
plary in  all  things  save  in  this  neglect  of  himself. 
And  for  this  he  paid  the  inevitable  penalty. 

It  is  a  sorry  sight  to  see  an  over-worked,  sallow- 
visaged,  prematurely  aged  man  of  business,  volun- 
tarily digging  his  own  grave.  Yet  thousands  are 
doing  this,  because  they  will  not  seek  rest  until 
their  accumulations  will  permit  them  to  "  retire  "  to 
enjoy  what  they  have  "  made,"  and  when  such  men 
do  "  retire,"  they  find  themselves  possessed  of  a 
fortune  and  a  broken  constitution.  Who,  then,  are 
the  wise  men  ?  They  who  work  without  cessation 
or  intermission  until  they  are  compelled  to  seek 
lost  health,  or  they  who  prefer  "  prevention  "  to 
"  cure  ? "  If  to  merely  "  work  "  was  all  of  life,  even 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  19 

then  would  it  be  economy  to  spend  an  occasional 
month  in  the  woods ;  for  here  the  muscles  as  well 
as  the  brain  and  the  heart  find  recuperative  aliment. 
The  scripture  hath  it :  "  He  that  maketh  haste 
to  be  rich  shall  not  be  innocent "  —  not  that  he 
always  does  wrong  to  his  neighbor,  but  that  he  too 
often  and  most  inexcusably  does  wrong  to  himself. 

But  angling  is  not  alone  a  health-retaining  and 
a  health-giving  pastime.  It  is  a  medicine  to  the 
mind  as  well  as  to  the  body ;  and  unlike  too  many 
of  the  pleasures  of  life,  it  scatters  no  seeds  from 
which  the  nettle  of  remorse  may  grow  to  sting  the 
conscience  or  drive  sunshine  from  the  heart.  Like 
the  unclouded  friendships  of  youth,  it  leaves  only 
joyous  memories.  Peter  did  not  weep  because  he 
took  fish  with  net  or  angle,  but  because  he  did  what 
it  has  become  a  proverb  no  angler  can  do  and  have 
"  luck,"  and  if  Uncle  Toby's  hasty  speech  had  been 
as  free  from  guile  as  an  angler's  heart  while  plying 
his  vocation,  no  angel's  tear  need  to  have  fallen  to 
blot  out  the  record.  Blessed  pastime,  whose  day 
never  ends,  but  whose  sun  casts  a  perpetual  radi- 
ance upon  the  "  simple  wise  man  "  who,  regularly 
as  the  return  of  "  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds," 
sayeth  to  himself,  "  I  go  a-fishing !  " 

We  thank  God,  therefore,  for  these  woods,  these 
mountains  and  these  ever-singing  waters.  They 
are  not  only  the  angler's  Elysium,  but  the  great 
medicine  chest  of  nature. 


CHAPTEK  IY. 


RE-STOCKING    SALMON   WATERS WHAT    HAS    BEEN 

AND   WHAT   MAY   BE. 

There's  a  river  in  Macedon,  and  there  is  also,  moreover,  a 
river  in  Monmouth  ;  it  is  called  Wye  at  Monmouth,  but  it  is 
out  of  my  prains  what  is  the  name  of  the  other  river  ;  but  'tis 
all  one,  'tis  so  like  as  my  fingers  is  to  my  fingers,  and  there 
is  salmons  in  both. —  [King  Henry  V.,  Act  4,  sc.  7. 


HE  longing  of  twenty  years  has 
been  gratified.  I  have  had  three 
weeks'  salmon  fishing  in  one  of 
the  best  rivers  on  the  continent ; 
and  as  many  of  my  readers  are 
quite  as  fond  of  angling  as  I  am 
myself,  they  will  be  interested  in 
a  brief  record  of  my  experience 
in  this  highest  department  of  the 
gentle  art. 

All  the  most  desirable  salmon  rivers  in  the  three 
provinces  of  Quebec,  New  Brunswick  and  Nova 
Scotia,  are  preserved.  Not  many  years  since  it  be- 
came alarmingly  apparent  that  this  kingly  fish  was 
being  rapidly  exterminated,  and  that,  unless  some 
stringent  measures  were  adopted  for  its  preserva- 
tion, it  would  speedily  become  as  scarce  as  it  had 
heretofore  been  abundant.  The  experience  of  the 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  21 

past  sixty  years  furnished  a  melancholy  lesson  of 
the  danger  of  neglect.  For  within  that  period, 
every  stream,  as  far  south  as  the  river  Credit  (at 
the  head  of  lake  Ontario)  and  on  both  sides  of 
that  lake,  lake  Champlain  and  the  St.  Lawrence 
river  down  to  Quebec,  were  as  prolific  in  salmon 
as  any  of  the  rivers  on  the  gulf  or  on  the  coast  of 
Labrador.  I  myself  remember  when  canoe-loads 
of  salmon  were  brought  to  Toronto  from  the  first- 
named  river  by  the  Indians  and  sold  for  a  penny 
a  pound ;  and  it  is  within  the  recollection  of  the 
"  oldest  inhabitants  "  of  Sodus,  Oswego,  Kingston, 
Prescott  and  Plattsburg,  when  salmon  in  the  rivers 
in  their  neighborhood  were  quite  as  plenty  as 
salmon  trout,  white  fish  or  black  bass  now  are. 
But  now,  a  salmon  in  any  of  the  waters  south  of 
Montreal  is  as  rare  as  a  Spanish  mackerel  north  of 
the  Highlands  in  the  Hudson. 

This  depletion  has  resulted  from  three  causes : 
1.  The  destruction  of  the  fish  by  net  and  spear ;  2. 
The  establishment  of  saw-mills  and  factories ;  and 
3.  The  erection  of  dams  which  prevent  the  fish 
from  resorting  to  their  natural  breeding  places. 
Either  of  these  causes  would,  in  time,  perform  the 
work  of  extermination ;  but  the  latter  is  the  most 
effective  and  the  least  excusable,  because  un- 
necessary. A  very  little  attention  to  the  con- 
struction of  "  ladders  "  to  enable  the  fish  to  reach 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 


their  spawning  beds  would  have  insured  their  an- 
nual return  without  at  all  impeding  "  the  march 
of  improvement."  But  this  simple  provision  was 
neglected  (if  thought  of),  and  what  with  the  net 
and  spear  and  the  poisonous  substances  introduced 
into  the  waters,  the  places  which  once  knew  the 
salmon  in  the  greatest  profusion  will  now  know 
them  no  more  forever  —  unless,  indeed,  the  more 
perfect  knowledge  we  now  have  of  what  is  needful 
to  restore  the  waste  places  on  our  inland  waters 
shall  be  brought  into  practical  use  by  individual 
enterprise  or  by  governmental  interposition. 

Something  is  being  done  in  this  direction  by 
our  own  State,  but  so  parsimoniously  and  upon  so 
petty  a  scale  that  very  little  can  be  accomplished. 
Our  legislators,  however,  may  do  better  as  they 
grow  wiser,  although  our  inland  fisheries  may  never 
become  what  they  have  been.  There  are  difficul- 
ties in  the  way  which  neither  care,  science  nor 
liberality  can  overcome.  But  enough  may  be 
accomplished,  at  a  cost  which  would  be  voted  a 
mere  bagatelle  when  contrasted  with  the  results, 
to  bring  back  to  the  waters  of  our  State  a  moderate 
abundance  of  this  delicious  fish,  for  which  we  are 
now  dependent,  for  the  most  part,  upon  the  dis- 
tant provinces  of  Quebec,  New  Brunswick  and 
Nova  Scotia.  Indeed,  even  though  New  York 
should  continue  to  creep  in  the  laggard  way  in 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  23 

which  she  has  begun,  there  is  still  hope  that  some- 
thing may  be  achieved  in  restoring  salmon  to  the 
streams  flowing  into  lake  Ontario.  The  Upper 
Canada  government  has  authorized  two  or  three 
breeding  establishments  west  of  Kingston,  and 
they  have  been  so  carefully  and  so  wisely  super- 
vised by  its  agent  (a  Mr.  Wilmot),  that  the  very 
best  results  are  foreshadowed.  Several  streams 
have  been  stocked,  and  already  thousands  of  young 
fish,  which  were  hopefully  cast  upon  the  waters, 
have,  with  that  curious  and  mysterious  instinct 
which  is  as  unerring  as  the  sun,  returned  to  vindi- 
cate their  sagacity  and  to  encourage  the  agents  of 
the  government  in  their  beneficent  labors.  If  our 
own  State  authorities  shall  be  equally  wise  and 
quadruple  the  powers  and  resources  of  our  intelli- 
gent fish  commissioners,  the  next  generation  may 
not  be  able  to  buy  salmon  for  a  penny  a  pound, 
but  they  will  be  procurable  in  such  abundance  as 
to  render  them  as  available  as  white  fish  or  shad. 

It  was  this  experience  of  the  past  sixty  years, 
and  the  recollection  of  the  total  depletion  of  the 
once  prolific  streams  emptying  into  the  upper  St. 
Lawrence  and  lake  Ontario,  which  impressed  the 
authorities  of  the  three  lower  Provinces  with  the 
necessity  of  enacting  some  stringent  laws  to  pre- 
vent their  own  waters  from  becoming  equally 
"  barren  and  unfruitful."  The  first  step  was  to 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

declare  all  the  rivers  (with  a  few  exceptions)  closed 
to  all  comers  not  duly  authorized  to  fish  there  by 
the  proper  authorities.  Then  followed  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  commission  of  fisheries  —  one  commis- 
sioner for  each  province.  These  officials  are  given 
the  general  supervision  of  all  the  inhibited  rivers  — 
issuing  licenses  to  those  who  are  permitted  to  fish 
with  seines  in  tide-water,  and  leases  to  those  who 
wish  the  rivers  for  purely  angling  purposes.  The 
prices  paid  for  licenses  for  seine-fishing  vary  with 
the  presumed  prolific  character  of  the  fishing 
grounds,  from  $100  to  $500  ;  and  so  of  the  rivers 
leased  to  anglers,  varying  from  $100  to  $600.  The 
latter  is  the  annual  sum  paid  by  the  lessee  of  the 
Cascapedia,  where  I  have  had  my  first  experience 
in  salmon  fishing.  The  seines  are  not  to  obstruct 
the  entire  of  the  channel  in  any  river,  and  ordina- 
rily do  not  cover  more  than  one-tenth  of  the  water 
surface;  so  that,  while  many  fish  are  caught,  as  is 
proper,  ten  times  as  many  find  an  unobstructed 
passage  to  the  fresh  water,  which  they  instinctively 
seek,  with  the  regularity  of  the  seasons,  to  breed. 
The  leases  for  angling  include  all  of  the  rivers  lying 
above  tide-water,  and  restrict  the  lessee  to  hook  and 
line.  Spearing  and  all  other  modes  of  fish-taking 
(except  with  the  fly)  are  prohibited  under  penalties 
which  would  be  deemed  severe  were  they  not  indis- 
pensable to  the  preservation  of  the  waters  from 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  25 

voracious  pot-hunters  and  inveterate  poachers.  Each 
river  has  a  warden,  appointed  by  the  fish  commis- 
sioners or  lessee,  and  are  paid  a  moderate  stipend 
(from  $50  to  $250)  jointly  by  the  government  and 
the  lessee.  This  warden  designates  trustworthy 
parties  in  the  neighborhood  as  watchers,  who  are 
stimulated  to  a  careful  discharge  of  their  duties  by 
the  lion's  share  of  the  penalties  which  may  be  im- 
posed upon  the  violators  of  the  law.  By  these 
means,  the  rivers  are,  as  a  general  thing,  well  pre- 
served —  so  well  that  it  is  the  verdict,  not  only  of 
the  authorities  but  of  the  most  intelligent  residents 
on  the  preserved  streams,  that  the  salmon  are  to- 
day many  times  more  numerous  than  they  were 
before  the  rivers  passed  under  the  supervision  of 
their  wardens.  This  testimony  was  more  especially 
given  in  regard  to  the  Cascapedia,  where  I  fished. 

The  inhibition  is,  of  course,  distasteful  to  the 
people,  who  have  heretofore  had  free  access  to 
these  rivers  j  and  they  are  not  slow  to  give  expres- 
sion to  their  feelings.  Indeed,  one  must  have  a 
profound  reverence  for  the  law  or  an  intense  terror 
of  its  penalties,  who,  with  a  scant  larder,  can  wit- 
ness a  dozen  salmon  leaping  from  the  pool  in  front 
of  his  log  cabin,  without  either  "  casting  "  for  them 
or  anathematizing  the  law  which  prevents  him 
from  doing  so.  A  free  and  independent  "  Yankee  " 
would  no  more  brook  such  an  interference  with 


26  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

his  rights,  or  think  of  going  to  bed  hungry  with 
such  an  appetizing  morsel  impudently  flopping  his 
tail  at  him.,  than  he  would  of  turning  either  the 
back  of  his  hand  to  a  friend  or  the  back  of  his  coat 
to  an  enemy.  And  this,  not  because  he  would  be 
oblivious  of  the  propriety  of  preserving  the  fish 
from  extermination,  but  because  he  would  demon- 
strate to  his  own  satisfaction  not  only  that  "  self- 
preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature,"  but  that 
"  necessity  knows  no  law,"  and  that  when  salmon 
thus  generously  say  to  him,  "  Come  and  take  me," 
no  government  has  a  right  to  say,  "  You  shan't  do 
it."  Superadded  to  this  would  be  the  antagonism 
excited  by  the  reflection  that,  in  this  case,  the  pro- 
hibition is  against  nature  and  the  right  which  every 
man  has  to  the  waters  and  all  that  is  therein  in 
front  of  his  own  premises.  Many  even  here,  who 
are  not  Yankees,  believe  that  if  this  right  were 
asserted  it  would  hold  good  —  unless  it  had  been 
voluntarily  surrendered  or  otherwise  legally  secured 
by  the  government.  Fortunately,  however,  on 
most  of  the  salmon  rivers,  the  government  is  the 
principal  owner  of  the  lands  on  either  side  of  them ; 
and  where  it  is  not,  if  the  question  were  raised, 
some  mode  would  be  devised  to  effect  the  benefi- 
cent ends  sought  by  this  law  of  inhibition,  with- 
out wholly  ignoring  this  ancient  right. 

So  far  as  the  people  here  are  concerned,  they 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  27 

seem  to  generally  acquiesce  (though  not  without 
grumbling)  in  the  law  as  entirely  within  the  prov- 
ince of  the  government  and  as  promotive  of  the 
best  good  of  the  greatest  number.  That  there  is 
frequent  poaching,  the  local  court  records  furnish 
abundant  evidence.  The  flambeaux  and  spear  have 
been  too  long  in  use  and  have  too  long  afforded 
both  sport  and  provender  to  be  all  at  once  aban- 
doned. But  no  mercy  is  shown  to  those  who  are 
caught.  A  heavy  fine,  ranging  from  $5  to  $50 
and  the  forfeiture  of  the  canoe  with  its  contents, 
are  the  sure  penalty  of  those  found  repeating  the 
offense.  The  whites  bear  it  with  the  meekness 
and  patience  becoming  the  law-loving  subjects  of  her 
gracious  majesty ;  but  when  "  Lo,  the  poor  Indian  " 
finds  himself  mulcted  in  damages  and  robbed  of 
his  canoe  (which  is  at  once  his  lumber  wagon  and 
his  coach-and-four)  he  gives  vent  to  something  more 
emphatic  if  not  more  expressive  than  a  sigh  for  the 
good  old  days  when  he  was  "  boss "  of  the  conti- 
nent. 

The  prohibition,  however,  does  not  extend  to 
trout  —  which  abound  in  all  the  salmon  rivers  to  an 
extent  which  would  render  each  one  of  them  a  dis- 
tinct and  separate  paradise  to  the  trout  angler.  Any 
resident  on  the  preserved  rivers  may  fish  for  trout ; 
and  if,  while  thus  engaged,  they  have  the  misfor- 
tune to  hook  a  salmon,  I  have  never  heard  of  an 


28  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

instance  where  he  was  shaken  off  as  an  intruder. 
In  such  a  case,  the  offense,  I  believe,  is  generally 
forgiven  by  the  warden  if  reported  to  him.  That 
a  great  many  are  thus  taken  (always  accidentally, 
of  course,)  there  is  no  doubt.  But  these  occasional 
mistakes  have  no  perceptible  effect  upon  the  run 
of  the  fish,  and  are  wisely  winked  at  by  those 
whose  duty  it  is  to  see  that  no  salmon  goes  into 
the  pickle-barrel  without  first  paying  tribute  to 
the  Queen. 


CHAPTEK  Y. 

WHAT   THE   PROVINCES    ARE   DOING,  AND   WHAT 
NEW   YORK   SHOULD   DO. 

That  which  is  good  to  be  done  cannot  be  done  too  soon  ; 
and  if  it  is  neglected  to  be  done  early,  it  will  frequently  hap- 
pen that  it  will  not  be  done  at  all. —  {Bishop  Mant. 


CAN  pay  the  Provincial  authori- 
ties no  higher  compliment  than 
to  say  that,  so  far  as  I  am  able 
to  judge,  they  never  do  things 
by  halves.  What  they  deem  it 
necessary  to  do,  they  deem  it 
wise  to  do  well.  This  is  a  good 
rule  for  all  governments  not 
only,  but  for  all  individuals  as 
well.  The  world  has  lost  at 
least  a  century  in  achievement,  because  so  much 
that  has  been  attempted  has  lacked  the  stamp  of 
thoroughness  in  its  prosecution.  "  A  lick  and  a 
promise  "  is  the  homely  adage  sometimes  applied 
to  the  imperfect  results  of  slip-shod  labor.  The 
intelligent  observer  has  daily  cause  to  deplore  the 
fallibility  of  human  nature  when  he  contrasts  the 
golden  promises  with  the  leaden  performances 
of  men  in  authority.  If  all  that  kings  and  presi- 
dents, and  cabinets  and  congresses,  from  the  days 


30  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

of  Charlemagne  until  now,  have  decreed  should  le 
had  come  to  pass,  the  millenium  would  have  been 
at  least  as  old  as  our  republic,  and  government  de- 
faulters and  lecherous  scandal-mongers  would  have 
been  as  scarce  as  chub  in  a  salmon  pool.  But,  un- 
fortunately, only  a  beggarly  moiety  of  what  was 
promised  ever  found  embodiment  in  performance, 
and  most  of  what  was  attempted,  looking  to  the 
amelioration  and  elevation  of  the  race,  was  prose- 
cuted so  feebly  —  with  so  little  of  the  essential 
element  of  thoroughness  —  that  the  devil  has  sel- 
dom had  occasion  to  thrust  out  his  cloven  foot  to 
stop  the  car  of  progress. 

By  which  digression  I  simply  mean  to  say,  that 
when  the  Provincial  authorities  determined  to  pre- 
serve their  salmon  fisheries,  they  determined  to 
make  thorough  work  of  it  —  to  replenish  as  well 
as  to  preserve  —  not  only  to  guard  what  came  to 
them  in  a  natural  way,  but  to  avail  themselves  of 
all  the  artificial  processes  which  practical  science 
had  developed.  Hence,  besides  fish  commissioners 
and  fish  wardens  and  a  fish  police,  they  recognize 
and  employ  fish  breeders  —  men  of  experience,  in- 
telligence and  integrity  (alas!  what  a  rarity)  to 
whom  they  give  carte  blanche  (as  unrestricted  as 
that  given  to  Adam)  to  go  forth  and  replenish  the 
waters  with  this  king  of  fish  and  rarest  morsel  that 
ever  melted  on  a  gourmand's  palate. 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  31 

And  this  is  being  done — not  (as  in  New  York) 
by  a  beggarly  contribution  to  a  petty  hatching- 
house  which  one  might  cover  with  a  good  sized 
Mexican  sombrero,  situated  so  remote  from  the 
natural  haunts  of  the  most  valuable  fish  sought  to 
be  propagated  that  it  requires  even  more  care 
and  skill  to  transport  the  tender  fry  where  they 
are  needed  than  it  does  to  catch  them  after  they 
are  full  grown.  These  provincial  establishments 
are  placed  where  nature  has  placed  a  man's  nose 
— just  where  they  are  needed,  and  just  where,  like 
the  gratuitously  distributed  Pacific  railroad  stock, 
they  can  "  do  the  most  good  "  —  on  the  natural 
salmon  rivers,  where  the  raw  material  is  at  hand 
(this  is  not  intended  as  a  pun  upon  the  mode 
of  manipulation),  and  where  the  product,  like  all 
good  deeds  cast  upon  the  world's  waters,  will  "  re- 
turn after  many  days,"  to  fill  the  nets  of  the  fish- 
erman, the  exchequer  of  the  realm,  and  the  pickle- 
barrel  (and  stomach)  of  the  consumer.  If,  as  is  the 
case,  the  spawn  or  fry  is  needed  for  remote  waters, 
either  to  introduce  or  to  replenish,  they  are  quite 
as  available  for  this  purpose  as  if,  as  at  our  State 
hatching-house,  the  raw  material  had  to  be  im- 
ported before  it  can  be  dispensed — with  the  single 
exception  of  brook  trout,  which  are  as  indigenous 
to  Caledonia  brook  as  salmon  are  to  the  Cascapedia. 

These  provincial  hatching-houses,  like  the  salmon 


32  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

fry  which  they  are  to  furnish,  are  still  in  their 
infancy.  Only  two  or  three  are  yet  erected ;  but 
the  work  is  going  on,  and  in  a  very  few  years  there 
will  be  one  or  more  on  every  principal  salmon  river 
in  the  three  provinces.  Mr.  Wilmot,  the  son  of  the 
gentleman  who  began  the  business  on  lake  Ontario 
several  years  since,  has  charge  of  them,  and  from 
what  I  saw  of  him  during  my  recent  visit,  I  am 
quite  sure  that  he  is  the  right  man  in  the  right  place. 

I  have  said  this  much  on  this  subject  of  fish 
breeding,  not  because  I  object  to  what  has  been 
done  at  home,  but  with  the  earnest  hope  that  what 
I  have  said  or  shall  say  may  stimulate  our  legisla- 
ture to  do  more.  Our  fish  commissioners  have 
done  well  with  the  scanty  means  placed  at  their 
disposal,  and  Seth  Green,  their  zealous  and  intelli- 
gent agent,  deserves  the  thanks  and  gratitude  of 
the  whole  people.  But  you  might  as  well  try  to 
scoop  out  lake  Ontario  with  a  landing  net  as  to 
properly  replenish  our  barren  waters  with  the  fish 
natural  to  them  from  the  product  of  the  all  too 
limited  establishment  at  Mumford. 

We  are  mercifully  told  that  Providence 
winked  at  what  was  done  foolishly  "  in  the  time 
of  man's  ignorance."  And  while  legislators  were 
confessedly  and  excusably  "ignorant"  of  the  re- 
sults of  fish-breeding,  no  one  was  disposed  to  find 
fault  with  their  excessive  parsimony.  But  this 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  33 

time  of  excusable  ignorance  is  past ;  and  now  the 
man  who  does  not  comprehend  the  grand  possibili- 
ties of  fish-breeding,  and  who  is  unwilling  to  give 
his  vote  for  its  extension,  is  quite  unfit  to  represent 
an  intelligent  constituency,  and  is  himself  a  —  well, 
a  fish  which  is  far  less  attractive  to  an  artistic  eye 
than  to  an  epicurean  palate.  The  Mumford  hatch- 
ing-house and  its  zealous  manipulator  have  re- 
turned to  the  State  and  country  a  thousand  fold  for 
all  they  have  expended.  But  "  the  little-one " 
should  "  become  a  thousand."  From  having  the 
only  source  of  supply  so  diminutive  and  so  obscurely 
located  that  a  stranger  would  waste  as  much  time 
in  discovering  its  whereabouts  as  Diogenes  did  in 
his  vain  search  for  an  honest  man,  Seth  Green 
should  be  made  the  superintendent  of  State  hatch- 
ing-houses at  a  dozen  points  in  the  Adirondacks,  on 
lake  Ontario,  on  the  Hudson,  and  on  several  other 
waters,  so  that  fish  might  be  made  a  source  of  as 
great  wealth  to  the  State  and  of  as  great  benefit  to 
the  people  as  the  hog  and  poultry  crop  combined. 
Anglers  may  be  deemed  a  useless  race  by  men 
who  haven't  juice  enough  in  their  composition  to 
perspire  with  the  thermometer  at  90,  nor  muscle 
enough  in  then-  right  arm  to  cast  an  eight  ounce 
fly  rod;  but  if  their  love  of  the  sport  and  their 
desire,  in  season,  to  be  able  to  effectively  cast  their 
lines  in  pleasant  places,  shall  result  in  such  an 
5 


34  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

enlightenment  of  the  people  and  in  such  a  concen- 
tration of  public  sentiment  as  to  compel  such  wise 
and  liberal  legislation  as  will  insure  the  replenish- 
ment of  all  our  depleted  streams  with  the  fish 
indigenous  to  them,  they  will  deserve  the  bone- 
dictions  of  all  who  would  much  rather  feast  and 
fatten  upon  the  toothsome  flakes  of  trout  and 
salmon  than  grow  lean  and  cadaverous  in  sipping 
the  imaginary  "  nectar  of  the  gods." 

I  find  myself  drawing  toward  my  theme  as  a 
prudent  general  invests  a  beleaguered  city,  by  very 
gradual  approaches.  But  few  fish  are  more  prolific 
than  the  salmon,  and  those  who  write  about  them 
should  be  excused  if  in  this  they  are  like  them. 
Besides,  the  salmon  is  the  king  of  fish,  and  all 
kings  have  many  subjects.  And  still  besides, — a 
salmon  pool  can  only  be  fished  successfully  when 
approached  with  caution.  I  am  acting  upon  this 
principle  in  penning  these  rambling  chapters.  I 
do  not  intend  to  hazard  the  satisfaction  I  find  in 
composing  them,  or  the  diversion  which  awaits 
those  who  shall  have  the  good  taste  to  read  them, 
by  any  premature  denouement.  Half  the  pleasure 
of  the  "  good  times "  of  life  is  lost  by  the  rush 
and  hurry  with  which  they  are  begun  and  ended. 
Just  now,  for  the  first  time  in  half  a  century,  I  am 
in  no  hurry.  It  is  a  new  sensation  and  I  rather 
like  it. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 


HOBBIES    AND   SOME    OF   THEIR   EIDERS. 

The  variety  and  contrary  choices  that  men  make  in  the 
world  argue  that  the  same  thing  is  not  good  to  every  man 
alike.  This  variety  of  pursuits  shows  that  every  one  does 
not  place  his  happiness  in  the  same  thing. —  {Locke. 


T  is  not  true  that  "  every  man  has 
his  hobby."  The  great  mass  of 
men  have  no  special  source  of 
pleasurable  diversion.  They  are 
content  to  walk  the  weary  tread- 
mill of  life  in  stoical  monotony, 
if  they  can  but  have  the  barren 
assurance  that  "their  oil  and 
their  wine  increaseth."  But  with 
the  man  who  has  his  "  hobby  "  it 
is  not  so.  Equally  with  others,  he  has  respect  unto 
his  larder  and  his  bank  account,  and  is  as  willing 
as  the  most  thoroughly  devoted  man  of  business  to 
have  "  both  ends  meet "  seasonably  and  symmetri- 
cally. He  has  no  less  zeal  or  energy,  and  is  quite 
as  industrious  and  thrifty  as  his  neighbor;  but 
through  the  rift  in  the  cloud  of  his  daily  struggle, 
he  catches  frequent  glimpses  of  his  beloved  "  hob- 
by," and  his  heart  throbs  and  his  step  becomes 


36  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

elastic  as  the  hour  approaches  when  he  can  "  take 
a  ride."  It  may  be  that  the  "  hobby  "  is  trotted 
out  daily  in  the  form  of  a  rose-bud,  a  sheet  of 
music,  the  framework  of  some  impracticable  piece 
of  mechanism,  an  unsolvable  problem  in  mathe- 
matics, or  a  newly-devised  "  fly,"  lovingly  fondled 
in  anticipation  of  its  grand  achievements  upon 
some  remote  sunny  holiday,  when  the  dear 
"  hobby "  shall  prance  by  the  side  of  a  murmur- 
ing meadow  brook  or  a  babbling  mountain  rivu- 
let. However,  wherever  or  whenever  ridden, 
(whether  with  every  sunset  or  with  the  wan- 
ing moon,  or  only  once  a  year  when  trout  and 
salmon  are  in  season,)  it  is  well  to  have  a  harm- 
less "  hobby  "  standing  in  some  cozy  nook  of  the 
imagination,  to  be  led  out  at  will,  and  to  be 
straddled  and  ridden  when  the  muscles  ache,  when 
the  brain  is  weary  and  when  the  heart  is  sad.  The 
man  without  a  "  hobby  "  may  be  a  good  citizen 
and  an  honest  fellow,  but  he  can  have  but  few 
golden  threads  running  through  the  web  or  woof 
of  his  monotonous  existence. 

Of  all  the  "  hobbies  "  known  to  advanced  civil- 
ization, none  is  more  harmless,  none  more  exhila- 
rating, none  more  healthful  and  none  which  ambles 
more  gently  than  that  of  the  angler.  The  months 
of  grooming  —  of  anticipation  and  of  preparation 
—  are  only  less  delightful  than  the  pleasurable 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  37 

emotions  experienced  when,  fully  mounted,  the 
happy  rider  "  whips  "  his  way  through  trout-brook 
and  salmon-pool,  buoyant  in  spirit,  inhaling  new 
life  and  vigor  with  every  breath  of  the  pure  moun- 
tain air  which  environs  him,  with  his  heart  pulsa- 
ting as  if  every  drop  of  blood  was  an  electric 
battery,  with  every  nerve  thrilled  by  the  rush  and 
swirl  preluding  the  coveted  "  strike,"  with  the 
well-poised  line,  tensioned  by  the  "pull"  of  a 
twenty  pound  salmon,  droning  out  seolian  music, 
and  with  every  nerve  and  fibre  thrumming  an  ac- 
companiment, embodying  more  of  entrancing  mel- 
ody than  ever  Strauss  or  Paganini  dreamed  of. 
"With  such  a  "  hobby,"  susceptible  of  exciting  such 
pleasurable  emotions,  upon  which  to  take  an  oc- 
casional ramble  through  "  the  green  pastures  and 
beside  the  still  waters  "  of  life,  should  it  be  deemed 
strange  that  anglers  are  merry  men,  contemplative 
philosophers  and  enthusiasts  in  their  love  of  all 
that  is  grand  and  beautiful  and  sublime  in  nature  ? 
I  am  glad  to  know  that  the  number  who  ride 
this  harmless  "  hobby "  is  constantly  increasing. 
When  men  through  eleven  months  of  weary  toil 
and  labor  can  find  pleasure  in  anticipating  the 
coming  of  the  month  "  of  all  the  year  the  best," 
when  they  will  find  inexpressible  delectation  in 
admiring  the  graceful  movements  of  the  swaying 
forest,  in  reposing  beneath  its  genial  shades,  in  list- 


38  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

ening  to  the  music  of  bird  and  brook  and  mountain 
torrent,  and  in  casting  for  speckled  trout  or  silver 
salmon  in  pool  or  rivulet,  they  will  not  err  who 
write  them  down  as  happier  men  than  their  neigh- 
bors, and  as  all  the  better  for  this  happiness. 

There  is  enough  in  the  minor  departments  of 
angling  to  render  it  attractive.  Sea  and  lake,  as 
well  as  brook  and  river,  afford  pleasant  pastime, 
but  salmon  fishing  is  confessedly  the  highest  round 
in  the  ladder,  whether  because  of  the  great  weight, 
strength  and  beauty  of  the  fish,  the  skill  required 
to  lure  it  to  the  fly,  to  strike  it  when  lured,  or  to 
kill  it  when  struck.  No  other  fish  is  so  shy,  so 
kingly,  or  so  full  of  game.  To  kill  a  thirty  or 
forty  pound  salmon,  is  to  graduate  with  all  the 
honors.  If  but  a  comparatively  few  Americans, 
masters  of  every  other  department  of  the  art,  have 
attained  unto  this  coveted  dignity,  it  is  from  want 
of  opportunity  rather  than  from  want  of  skill. 
We  have  no  salmon  rivers  within  our  territory 
(where  the  fish  will  take  the  fly)  this  side  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  Hence  the  great  mass  of  our 
anglers,  however  skilled  and  enthusiastic,  have 
deemed  themselves  to  have  reached  the  greatest 
available  elevation  in  the  art  when  they  have 
killed  a  four,  six,  eight  or  ten  pound  trout.  The 
single  step  forward  can  only  be  taken  by  a  journey 
to  Oregon  or  California,  or  by  a  trip  to  the  Coast 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  39 

of  Labrador  or  the  Gulf  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  where 
the  restrictions  are  such  that  only  a  fortunate  few 
are  able  to  gratify  their  ambitious  longings.  There 
are  probably  not  more  than  a  dozen  men  in  the 
State  of  New  York,  outside  the  city,  who  have 
killed  a  salmon.  I  can  remember  but  a  single  per- 
son in  our  immediate  neighborhood,  beside  myself, 
who  has  been  so  fortunate.  DEAN  SAGE,  late  of 
Cohoes,  a  young  gentleman  of  rare  skill  with  rod 
and  reel  and  a  most  enthusiastic  angler,  had  his 
first  fortnight  on  a  salmon  river  in  July.  It  was  a 
fortnight  of  exquisite  pleasure,  the  recollection  of 
which  will  make  the  present  summer  ever  memor- 
able in  his  log-book  of  years.  There  are,  perhaps,  a 
score  or  two  in  New  York,  and  as  many  more  scat- 
tered from  Portland  to  New  Orleans,  who  know 
what  it  is  to  be  electrified  by  the  "  rise  "  of  a  thirty 
pound  fish.  But  the  number  is  annually  increas- 
ing, and  a  great  multitude  in  the  next  generation 
—  if  salmon  breeding  is  pushed  as  it  should  be  — 
will  be  able  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of  grand  old 
Christopher  North  when  he  gently  caressed  his  pet 
salmon-fly  on  his  death-bed. 

It  is  different  in  the  Provinces.  There  are  en- 
thusiastic salmon  fishers  in  every  town,  from  To- 
ronto to  Halifax.  It  was  my  great  pleasure,  dur- 
ing my  recent  visit  to  St.  John,  to  form  the  ac- 
quaintance of  some  of  the  best  of  them.  And  I 


4:0  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

found  them  to  be  just  what  all  true  anglers  ought 
to  be,  and  what  most  true  anglers  are,  large-hearted 
merry  men,  kindly  natured,  robustly  gentle,  hos- 
pitable as  dame  nature  amid  whose  grandeur  and 
beauty  and  repose  they  hold  their  annual  revels, 
intelligent  and  obliging,  full  of  enthusiasm,  and 
so  open-hearted  and  open-handed  as  to  captivate 
and  charm  all  who  are  made  the  delighted  recipi- 
ents of  their  hospitality. 

Foremost  among  this  bevy  of  gentlemen  I  may 
mention  Chief  Justice  EITCHIE,  no  less  respected 
for  his  virtues  than  honored  for  his  learning, 
whose  more  than  three  score  years,  because  of  his 
constant  walks  and  wanderings  as  an  angler,  have 
failed  to  check  his  elasticity  or  dampen  his  enthu- 
siasm. I  have  pleasant  camp  memories  of  this 
venerable  angler  —  of  his  genial  abandon,  of  his 
pleasant  jest,  of  his  exhaustless  fund  of  anecdote 
and  incident,  of  his  hearty  laugh — a  laugh  so 
hearty  as  to  give  the  world  assurance  of  an  honest 
man,  and  of  that  robust  health  which  is  the  in- 
separable companion  of  what  an  eccentric  Scotch 
philosopher  deemed  the  only  requisites  of  true  feli- 
city, viz  :  "  a  clear  conscience  and  open  bowels  "  — 
uttering  no  word  which  might  not  be  spoken  in 
the  home  circle,  and  yet  overflowing  with  mellow 
hilarity.  Happy  Province  which  has  such  a  Chief 
Justice,  and  happy  Chief  Justice  who  has  a  con- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  41 

stituency  who  do  not  believe  that  he  either  com- 
promises his  dignity  or  soils  his  ermine  by  annually 
"  going  a-fishing  ! " 

Gen.  WARNER,  the  American  Consul,  another  St. 
John  gentleman,  is  equally  fond  of  rod  and  reel. 
He  holds  his  office  as  the  reward  of  faithful  and  intel- 
ligent service  in  field  and  forum.  His  appointment 
was  as  deserved  as  it  is  popular.  By  the  wise  and 
prudent  manner  in  which  he  administers  the  duties 
of  his  office,  he  vindicates  the  sagacity  of  those  who 
se]ected  him  for  the  position  he  honors.  He  is 
respected  alike  and  equally  by  all  Americans  who 
have  occasion  to  call  upon  him  in  his  official  capa- 
city and  by  those  who  have  had  the  good  fortune 
to  enjoy  the  elegant  hospitality  of  his  happy  home. 
Although  bearing  an  "empty  sleeve" — the  badge 
of  valor  and  gallant  service  —  he  is  an  expert  ang- 
ler, whose  love  of  the  sport  made  him  the  lessee  of 
the  river  we  fished,  and  whose  achievements  with 
the  rod  and  reel  bear  honorable  comparison  with 
those  of  the  most  accomplished  of  his  compeers. 

Mr.  NICHOLSON,  another  member  of  the  honor- 
able guild,  took  his  first  lessons  in  angling  in  the 
lakes  of  Killarney,  and  no  man  is  now  more 
successful  in  "enticing  the  wary  salmon  to  his 
barbed  hook."  If  the  records  of  his  wonderful 
scores  sometimes  excite  a  doubt  in  the  mind  of 
the  novice,  it  is  a  real  pleasure  to  "make  no  sign," 
6 


4:2  PLEASURES   OF    ANGLING. 

the  stories  are  told  with  such  infinite  gusto  and 
good  humor.  For  my  own  part,  I  received  in  per- 
fect faith  every  recital  of  his  achievements — even 
that  of  the  two  hundred  and  six  salmon  killed  in 
three  weeks  last  year,  and  of  the  one  hundred  and 
twenty-two  killed  in  half  the  time  last  June.  That 
of  a  year  ago  was  a  wonderful  catch  —  probably 
unsurpassed  by  any  thing  which  ever  before 
passed  into  the  angling  records  of  either  the  old 
world  or  the  new. 

Mr.  FORBES  does  honor  to  old  Harvard,  whether 
as  a  barrister  or  as  an  angler.  But  his  virtues 
shine  out  most  conspicuously  in  his  friendly  offices 
and  courteous  bearing.  If,  as  I  have  no  doubt, 
he  is  as  attentive  to  the  interests  of  his  clients 
as  he  is  to  the  comfort  of  his  friends,  he  should 
gather  a  rich  harvest  from  his  profession. 

Mr.  SPUKR  is  the  veteran  angler  of  St.  John. 
He  has  fished  in  all  waters  for  twenty  years,  and 
knows  more  of  the  haunts  and  habits  of  the  sal- 
mon than  any  other  man  in  the  province.  He 
is  a  walking  encyclopedia,  and  finds  no  greater 
pleasure  than  in  dispensing  his  accumulated  wis- 
dom to  those  who  are  anxious  to  learn.  It  was 
fitting,  therefore,  that  he  should  have  taken  the 
champion  fish  of  the  season  —  a  forty-eight  pounder 
—  the  grandest  trophy  attainable  to  mortal  fisher- 
man. It  was  a  well-meant  compliment,  uttered 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  43 

by  the  unfortunate  punster  of  our  party,  when  he 
said :  "  This  noble  fish  shall  Spurr  me  on  to  a 
still  grander  achievement." 

Messrs.  HANFORD  and  ROLF  and  SMITH  and 
HEADLEY  and  CENNET,  and  still  others  whose 
names  but  not  whose  good  offices  are  forgotten, 
constitute  a  coterie  of  anglers  and  gentlemen 
(synonyms  usually,)  of  whom  any  city  might  be 
proud,  and  whom  it  will  always  be  a  pleasure  to 
remember. 


CHAPTEE  YII. 

WHO    WENT   A-FISHING,    AND    HOW    THEY 
REACHED    THE   EIYEE. 

I  now  believed 

The  happy  day  approach'd,  nor  were 
My  hopes  deceived. 

—  [Dryden. 


JYEKY  one,  I  presume,  looks  for- 
ward hopefully  to  the  realization 
of  some  fancied  good,  or  to  the 
attainment  of  some  coveted  plea- 
sure. Life  would  be  even  more 
sombre  and  leaden  than  it  is  but 
for  this  ever-living  hopefulness. 
It  is  the  hidden  sunshine  which 
gives  to  the  darkest  cloud  its 
silver  lining  —  the  unseen  hand 
which  "smoothes  the  wrinkled  front  of  weary 
care."  ~No  matter  that  these  pleasant  visions 
seldom  assume  the  form  and  substance  of  reality. 
"  Castles  in  the  air "  have  often  happier  tenants 
than  those  on  terra  firma. 

The  enthusiastic  angler  is  never  content  with 
minor  achievements.  His  constant  expectation  is 
that  every  new  cast  will  afford  him  some  new  con- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  45 

quest,  and  that  the  grand  sport  of  to-day  will  be 
excelled  by  the  grander  sport  of  to-morrow.  Of 
no  others  can  it  be  said  more  truthfully : 

"  Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast; "— 

hope  not  merely  to  capture  the  best  of  the  fish  for 
which  he  is  angling,  but  hope  that  at  some  time  not 
far  off  he  may  capture  his  proper  quota  of  the 
gamiest  fish  that  swims.  During  many  more  than 
a  score  of  years  I  have  found  great  pleasure  in 
angling  for  trout,  but  at  no  time  in  all  these  years 
have  I  ceased  to  hope  that  sometime  in  the  golden 
future  kind  fortune  would  favor  me  with  the  oppor- 
tunity to  kill  a  salmon.  And  at  length,  after  many 
years  of  "  hope  deferred,"  the  opportunity  came, 
the  excursion  was  projected,  the  waters  were 
reached,  the  cast  was  made,  hope  became  fruition 
and  the  coveted  result  was  achieved.  A  great 
many  pleasurable  "  first  times  "  are  jotted  upon  the 
memory  of  every  one  —  the  merchant's  first  suc- 
cessful venture,  the  lawyer's  first  case  and  the  poli- 
tician's first  triumph — but  none  of  these,  nor  all  of 
them  combined,  can  compare  with  the  delight  which 
comes  to  the  enthusiastic  angler  from  the  rise  and 
swirl  and  strike  and  capture  of  his  first  salmon. 
I  speak  from  experience,  and  propose,  for  the  delec- 
tation of  those  who  are  still  hoping,  to  enter  into 
particulars,  not  of  that  single  incident  alone,  but  of 


4:6  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

the  many  incidents  which  made  our  three  weeks' 
sojourn  on  the  Cascapedia  delightfully  enjoyable. 

I  owe  to  Gen.  ARTHUR,  Collector  of  the  Port  of 
New  York,  the  opportunity  of  experiencing  what 
will  be  "  a  joy  forever."  For  several  years  that 
gentleman  has  given  his  summer  vacations  to  sal- 
mon fishing.  There  are  few  more  expert  anglers 
and  none  who  have  a  higher  appreciation  of  the 
gentle  art.  His  scores  have  always  indicated  skill 
and  perseverance — the  two  essentials  of  success. 
The  party,  of  which  the  General  was  Chief,  con- 
sisted also  of  K.  G.  DUN,  of  New  York,  D.  ARCHIE 
PELL,  of  Staten  Island,  and  the  writer  hereof.  Mr. 
DUN,  like  the  General,  had  had  several  years'  suc- 
cessful experience.  Col.  PELL  (like  his  honored 
father  before  him)  had  had  large  practice  in  every 
other  department  of  angling.  But,  with  myself, 
he  was  about  to  try  his  "  'prentice  han'  "  on  salmon 
waters  and  to  make  his  first  cast  for  his  diploma  as 
a  graduate  in  the  high  school  of  the  craft.  I  could 
not  have  fallen  into  better  hands,  nor  have  been 
brought  into  the  association  of  gentlemen  in  more 
perfect  accord  and  sympathy  in  all  hopeful  antici- 
pation of  the  great  pleasure  in  reserve  for  us. 

The  outfit  for  salmon  fishing,  though  somewhat 
expensive  if  of  the  best  —  and  the  best,  in  strength 
if  not  in  beauty,  it  always  should  be  — is  both  com- 
pact and  simple,  consisting  of  a  rod  (costing  any- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  4:7 

where  from  $35  to  $60  in  New  York,  or  from  $15 
to  $30  in  St.  John),  an  India-rubber  reel  ($15),  an 
oil-boiled  silk  line,  300  or  400  feet  in  length  ($8 
to  $12),  a  dozen  double  gut  leaders  with  single  gut 
droppers  ($6),  five  or  six  dozen  assorted  salmon  flies 
($6  a  dozen  in  New  York  or  less  than  half  that 
price  in  St.  John),  and  a  steel  gaff  ($2).  The  rods 
and  lines  may  be  duplicated  if  "expense  is  no 
object ; "  but  only  by  some  unforeseen  accident  or 
inexcusable  carelessness  need  either  the  one  or  the 
other  give  out.  No  one  is  more  merciless  with 
rod  and  line  than  myself,  and  yet  neither  failed 
me  during  our  expedition.  Instances  of  failure, 
however,  to  some  of  the  party  (but  not  from  any 
want  of  skill)  occurred,  and  under  circumstances 
which  sorely  tried  the  saintly  tempers  of  these 
unfortunate  victims  of  misplaced  confidence.  But 
as  a  rule,  any  strain  beyond  what  a  moderately  well 
made  rod  will  bear  safely  would  almost  certainly 
result  in  the  loss  of  your  fish ;  and  the  oiled  line,  if 
not  imperceptibly  defective,  has  the  capacity  to 
resist  five  times  the  pressure  which  should  ever  be 
employed  to  kill  a  salmon.  Its  great  weight  is 
given  to  it,  not  to  render  it  secure  merely,  but 
rather  to  adapt  it  the  better  for  casting. 

In  regard  to  supplies,  whatever  is  needful  can  be 
better  secured,  and  much  more  moderately,  at 
Quebec  or  St.  John  than  at  any  point  this  side  the 


4-8  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

line.  But  what  may  be  deemed  "  needful "  depends 
entirely  upon  the  tastes  and  appetites  of  the  pros- 
pective consumers.  One  gentleman  whom  we  met 
took,  with  himself  and  two  guides,  in  a  single 
canoe,  all  that  he  considered  "  needful "  for  a  thirty 
days'  sojourn,  while  another  loaded  two  canoes, 
besides  the  one  he  occupied  himself,  with  what  he 
thought  "  needful "  for  a  fortnight's  excursion.  I 
can  only  say  to  whoever  may  be  anxious  on  this 
point,  as  was  kindly  said  to  our  party,  that  it  is 
well  to  "  live  low  on  the  river."  If,  however,  the 
advice  shall  be  as  remorselessly  disregarded  by  any 
of  my  readers  who  may  be  contemplating  a  trip,  as 
it  was  by  our  commissary,  I  may  regret  it  but  I 
shall  not  be  surprised. 

In  reaching  any  of  the  rivers  on  the  Bay  of  Cha- 
leur,  or  in  that  immediate  neighborhood,  the  most 
direct  route  is  by  rail  to  St.  John  and  Shediac  and 
by  steamboat  to  Dalhousie ;  but  the  journey  can  be 
pleasantly  and  almost  as  expeditiously  made  by 
steamer  from  Quebec.  We  chose  the  former  route, 
and  it  was  high-noon  of  the  sixth  day  after  we  left 
New  York  before  we  pitched  our  tents  and  pre- 
pared for  service.  Next  year,  however,  there  will 
be  an  all-rail  route  most  of  the  way,  if  not  quite 
through  to  Dalhousie  —  which,  by  the  line  of  travel, 
is  full  three  hundred  miles  from  St.  John. 

[Now,  April,  1876,  there  is  an  all-rail  route  to 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  49 

Dalhousie,  via  Boston,  Portland,  Bangor,  St.  John 
and  Moncton.  Early  in  June  of  this  year,  it  is 
expected  that  a  much  shorter  route  will  be  open 
from  Montreal  and  River  du  Loup,  and  so  across 
to  the  Bay  of  Chaleur.  This  route  will  greatly 
lessen  the  distance  to  all  the  most  noted  salmon 
rivers  in  the  provinces.] 

There  was,  in  the  summer  of  18Y4,  a  provoking 
loss  of  twenty-four  hours  in  making  this  journey, 
as  the  time-tables  were  arranged,  there  being  no 
night  train  between  Bangor  and  St.  John,  nor 
between  St.  John  and  Shediac.  So  that,  unless 
you  started  right,  you  were  detained  a  night  at 
each  of  these  cities.  But  this  proved  no  incon- 
venience to  those  who  "  took  no  note  of  time," 
for  the  principal  hotels  at  Bangor  and  St.  John 
are  tidy,  home-like  and  elegant.  This  is  especi- 
ally true  of  the  hotel  at  St.  John  (the  Victoria), 
which  ranks  with  the  best  in  any  city.  But  to 
those  whose  time  is  limited,  and  who  would  rather 
spend  a  day  on  a  salmon  river  than  a  month  in  a 
palace,  it  is  not  so  pleasant. 

Even  those  in  a  hurry  find  some  compensation 
for  this  delay  in  the  attractive  scenery  which  re- 
veals itself  at  frequent  intervals  in  the  journey.  It 
is  something  to  see  the  thrifty  towns  below  Bangor 
and  the  vast  quantities  of  lumber  and  logs  which 
fill  the  rivers  along  which  the  road  passes.  It  is 

r 


50  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

something,  also,  to  see  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  tide 
at  St.  John  (from  forty  to  fifty  feet),  the  grand 
scenery  with  which  that  city  is  environed,  and  to 
glance  at  the  old  town  itself,  which,  in  its  shipping, 
warehouses  and  marts  of  trade,  bears  the  impress  of 
real  enterprise  and  thrift.  Personally  I  was  glad  of 
the  delay,  for  I  had  before  no  just  conception  either 
of  the  commercial-like  character  and  future  possi- 
bilities of  St.  John  nor  of  the  prolific  character  of 
the  highly  cultivated  farms  in  its  neighborhood  and 
along  the  eighty  miles  of  road  to  Shediac.  It  is  by 
no  means  the  dilapidated  city,  nor  is  the  country 
about  it  the  barren  and  glacier-like  region  I  had 
fancied.  Its  fogs,  however,  are  rather  frequent  for 
comfort,  and  the  recollection  of  them  somewhat 
dampens  the  enthusiasm  with  which  I  might  other- 
wise have  entered  upon  a  description,  in  detail,  of 
what,  between  the  fogs,  delighted  our  vision. 

There  are  a  score  of  excellent  salmon  rivers  on 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  and  the  bays  connected 
therewith ;  but  the  fish  in  none  of  them  excel  in 
size  (if  they  do  in  number)  those  of  the  Cascapedia 
—  which  empties  into  the  Bay  at  New  Richmond, 
a  pleasant  little  hamlet  some  thirty  miles  distant 
(and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Bay)  from  Dalhou- 
sie,  where  we  left  the  steamer  and  took  a  chaloupe, 
on  board  of  which  we  spent  several  tedious  hours, 
vainly  whistling  for  the  wind  and  uttering  pointless 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  51 

witticisms  against  those  whose  distorted  mental 
vision  permits  them  to  speak  ravishingly  of  the 
entrancing  beauty  of  a  "  sea  of  glass."  Any  thing 
seemed  preferable  to  the  monotony  of  such  a  cruise 
— a  storm,  a  hurricane,  a  cyclone  even,  would  have 
been  welcomed ;  any  thing  but  the  persistent  rain- 
fall which  came  down  just  in  time  to  drench  our 
garments  though  not  to  dampen  our  spirits  as  we 
disembarked  at  New  Richmond  and  received  "  e'en 
a  Hieland  welcome "  from  H.  R.  MONTGOMERY, 
Esq.,  to  whose  kindly  offices  we  were  commended 
by  those  who  knew  how  surely  his  hearty  courtesy 
and  genial  hospitality  would  obliterate  the  recollec- 
tion of  any  trifling  mishap  which  might  have  be- 
fallen us  by  the  way.  Here,  too,  we  met  Mr.  DIM- 
MICK,  the  warden  of  the  river,  who  had,  in  the 
most  prompt  and  business-like  manner,  responded 
to  our  telegraphed  request  to  have  canoes  and 
guides  in  readiness  upon  our  arrival.  Not  only 
were  they  in  readiness,  but  they  glided  out  from 
the  shore  at  our  approach,  each  canoe  (sitting  like 
a  swan  upon  the  water)  being  propelled  by  two 
paddlers  (an  Indian  and  a  white  man)  who  were  to 
accompany  us  during  our  three  weeks'  sojourn  on 
the  river.  Our  traps  and  persons  were  speedily 
transferred  to  these  frail  looking  but  wonderfully 
buoyant  craft,  when  we  began  what  proved  to  be 
the  most  delightful  pilgrimage  I  ever  made  to  any 
waters. 


CHAPTEK  YIIL 


OUK  FIRST  CAMP  AND  A  HEARTY  WELCOME. 

His  grace  looks  cheerfully  and  smooth  this  morning  ; 

There's  some  conceit  or  other  likes  him  well 

When  that  he  bids  "  Good  morrow"  with  such  spirit. 

—  \_Shakspeare. 


HE  bark-canoes  used  upon  these 
rivers  are  fragile-looking  but 
strong  and  buoyant.  They  are 
not  only  more  steady  and  secure, 
in  a  heavy  sea,  than  the  boats 
used  in  the  Adirondacks,  but  are 
capable  of  bearing  heavier  bur- 
dens. On  rivers  where  the  cur- 
rent is  swift  and  the  rapids  heavy 
(as  in  the  Cascapedia)  two  men 
are  necessary  to  propel  them  up  stream  with 
safety  and  comfort ;  and  even  then  an  average  of 
two  miles  an  hour  is  considered  a  fair  rate  of  speed. 
The  boatmen  sit  when  paddling  or  stand  when 
polling,  (one  at  each  end)  while  the  passenger 
makes  himself  very  comfortable  on  a  slightly  ele- 
vated seat  in  the  middle  of  the  canoe. 

A  novel,  picturesque  and  exciting  scene  was 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  53 

presented  as  our  six  canoes  moved  off,  in  "  Indian 
file,"  up  the  rapid  waters  of  the  Cascapedia.  The 
poles  used  are  tipped  with  an  iron  tube,  and  make 
pleasant  music  as  they  strike  upon  the  pebbly 
bottom  of  the  river  in  perfect  time. 

The  afternoon  was  charming.  The  sun  shone  out 
in  full  lustre,  but  the  cool  breeze  rendered  the  atmos- 
phere inexpressibly  delightful.  The  river  is  broad 
and  its  waters  are  as  transparent  as  crystal.  The 
foliage  on  either  side  was  rich  and  varied,  and  the 
grand  old  hills  which  rise,  most  of  the  way,  almost 
perpendicularly  from  the  water,  were  clothed  in 
gorgeous  apparel.  All  our  surroundings  —  the 
mode  of  conveyance,  our  dusky  boatmen,  the 
scenery,  the  object  of  our  journey  and  the  sport 
anticipated  —  were  novel  and  inspiriting,  and  the 
four  hours  consumed  in  reaching  our  first  camping 
ground,  were  four  hours  of  unalloyed  pleasure, 
to  which  the  excitement  of  ascending  the  seemingly 
unascendable  rapids  largely  contributed.  To  as- 
cend rapids  safely  not  only  involves  hard  work  but 
a  quick  eye  and  a  steady  hand.  To  allow  the  im- 
petuous current  to  obtain  a  moment's  advantage 
would  whirl  the  frail  bark  out  of  its  course  in  an 
instant,  and  send  it  flying  down  upon  the  rocks  to 
be  dashed  to  pieces.  It  is,  however,  far  less  dan- 
gerous, though  harder  work,  to  go  up  than  to  come 
down  these  rapids.  And  yet,  during  the  three 


54:  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

weeks  we  were  on  the  river,  a  hundred  rapids,  in 
which  an  Adirondack  boat  could  not  have  lived  a 
moment,  were  passed  in  perfect  safety.  The  de- 
scent is  especially  exhilarating.  The  skill  with 
which  rocks  and  breakers  and  foam  are  avoided  or 
surmounted,  is  a  source  of  constant  wonder  and 
admiration.  To  pass  through  the  pleasurable  ex- 
citement of  these  dashing  nights  is  alone  worth  a 
journey  to  any  one  of  the  rushing  rivers  where  this 
experience  can  be  had.  The  sensation  of  "  running 
the  rapids  "  is  unlike  anything  otherwise  attainable. 
It  somewhat  resembles  that  which  one  experiences 
from  the  return  movement  of  a  swing  in  full  ac- 
tion ;  but  the  feeling  is  multiplied  an  hundred  fold. 
As  the  rapid  is  approached,  the  water  is  generally 
as  smooth  as  glass,  and  the  light  vessel  seems  drawn 
through  it  with  lightning  speed,  as  if  moving  upon 
the  surface  of  transparent  oil.  From  this  it  glides 
—  and  no  other  word  so  literally  expresses  the 
movement  —  into,  and  dashes  through  the  foaming 
waters  with  the  swiftness  of  a  locomotive  —  the 
skilled  boatmen  guiding  their  craft  past  the  ex- 
posed and  hidden  rocks  by  an  easy  and  quiet  motion 
of  their  paddles,  as  securely  and  as  gracefully  as 
the  skilled  "  whip  "  guides  his  horses  past  any  dan- 
gerous obstacle  which  presents  itself  in  his  pathway. 
This  running  the  rapids  is  the  very  "  poetry  of 
motion,"  and  those  who  have  never  enjoyed  the 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  55 

sensation  have  something  very  pleasurable  yet  in 
reserve. 

The  point  selected  for  our  first  camp  was  eight 
miles  from  New  Richmond,  and  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  several  of  the  best  pools  on  the 
river.  There  is  no  desirable  fly-fishing,  at  any 
season  of  the  year,  below  them.  Tide-water, 
within  which  seine-fishing  is  allowed,  extends 
nearly  up  to  them,  and  as — for  some  reason  with 
which  I  am  not  sufficiently  familiar  to  discourse — 
salmon  do  not  readily,  if  ever,  rise  to  a  fly  until 
they  enter  fresh  water,  it  is  never  deemed  worth 
while  to  wet  your  line  until  these  pools  are  reached. 

On  arriving  at  our  destination,  we  found  Chief 
Justice  RITCHIE,  of  New  Brunswick,  and  Chief 
Justice  G-BAY,  of  Massachusetts,  in  camp,  awaiting 
our  arrival  to  move  up  higher  in  their  pursuit  of 
sport.  They  gave  us  a  most  cordial  welcome  —  so 
cordial  and  so  full  of  cheerful  heartiness  and  good 
humor  as  to  instantly  dispel  the  reverential  awe 
with  which  plain,  unlearned  laymen  are  wont  to 
look  upon  such  eminent  expounders  of  law  and 
dispensers  of  justice.  They  had  doffed  their  er- 
mine and  bade  us  welcome  with  unlaced  dignity 
and  grace,  in  flannel  shirts  and  well-worn  trousers. 
I  have  already  referred  to  the  buoyant  spirits  and 
charming  hilarity  of  the  Chief  Justice  of  New 
Brunswick.  He  seemed  an  embodiment  of  good 


56  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

humor,  as  if  he  lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being 
in  an  atmosphere  of  perpetual  sunshine.  And  Chief 
Justice  GRAY  was  like  him  in  all  the  good  qualities 
desirable  in  camp  companionship.  He  is  a  man 
of  grand  physique  —  more  than  six  feet  high  and 
well  proportioned  —  and,  at  home,  towers  above 
the  mass  of  his  compeers  in  dignity  and  learning 
as  he  does  above  most  men  in  comely  stature.  It 
was  very  pleasant  to  mark  the  simple  enthusiasm 
with  which  these  two  eminent  men  gave  us  their 
piscatorial  experiences  and  recounted  their  achieve- 
ments with  rod  and  reel.  It  reminded  one  of  the 
grand  characters  of  the  past  —  of  the  princes,  and 
poets,  and  bishops,  and  chancellors,  and  the  quiet, 
contemplative,  happy  scholars  and  philosophers  of 
all  times — who  have  found  their  highest  delecta- 
tion in  their  pursuit  of  the  delightful  recreation  of 
angling.  It  may  not  seem  so  to  the  plodding  man 
of  business,  who  deems  all  time  wasted  which  does 
not  bring  golden  grist  to  his  mill ;  but  it  is  never- 
theless true  that  there  have  been  multitudes  of 
wise  men,  and  good  men,  and  happy  men  in  all 
ages  who,  more  than  when  honors  or  wealth  came 
to  them,  have  rejoiced  when  the  times  and  seasons 
returned,  when  they  could  say  to  their  friends,  as 
Peter  said  to  the  disconsolate  disciples,  "I  go 
a-fishing."  Amid  his  deepest  gloom  and  despon- 
dency, this  great-hearted  apostle  fell  back  instinc- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  57 

lively  upon  his  old  vocation  as  the  only  source  of 
comfort  and  relief.  Multitudes  of  other  heavy 
hearts  and  aching  brains  have  found  like  relief 
from  the  same  source  of  harmless  diversion. 

These  distinguished  anglers  had  had  grand  suc- 
cess. It  was  Judge  GRAY'S  first  visit,  but  having 
had  long  experience  in  the  minor  departments  of 
the  art,  he  found  but  little  difficulty  in  acquiring 
the  higher  skill  which  the  more  complicated  work 
of  salmon-fishing  requires.  He  had  numerous 
trophies  to  exhibit  in  proof  of  the  success  which 
had  attended  his  maiden  efforts,  and  he  referred  to 
them  with  as  much  enthusiasm  and,  I  doubt  not, 
with  far  more  satisfaction,  than  he  had  ever  re- 
ferred to  any  of  his  most  noted  triumphs  in  the 
line  of  his  profession.  It  is  never  in  a  spirit  of 
mere  boasting  that  a  true  angler  alludes  to  his 
achievements,  but  because  of  the  simple  pleasure 
which,  like  the  old  soldier,  he  derives  from  "  fight- 
ing his  battles  o'er  again."  To  rehearse  the  inci- 
dents connected  with  the  capture  of  some  famous 
fish,  is  to  re-experience  the  thrilling  sensations 
which  accompanied  the  feat  itself.  They  remain, 
like  the  recollections  of  some  pleasant  spoken 
word,  or  of  some  beautiful  picture,  or  of  some 
grand  scene  in  nature,  a  joyous  memory  forever. 
He  is  an  unhappy  man  who  has  not  some  pleasant 
wells  of  memory  to  draw  upon,  if  it  be  true,  as 
8 


58  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

some  thoughtful  philosopher  has  said,  that  "  half 
the  joy  of  old  age  consists  in  the  recollection  of 
the  pleasures  of  youth." 

A  single  incident  in  the  experience  of  Chief 
Justice  RITCHIE  is  especially  worth  mentioning. 
Near  the  close  of  a  day  of  fine  sport  he  struck  a 
thirty-pound  salmon,  which  he  tried  in  vain  to 
kill  before  nightfall.  It  is  a  herculean  task,  re- 
quiring the  highest  skill  and  every  possible  favor- 
ing opportunity,  to  capture  such  a  fish.  The  chan- 
ces are  always  against  success  at  the  best.  But  the 
venerable  Chief  found  himself  tied  to  this  monster 
long  after  twilight  had  ceased  to  fall  upon  the  face 
of  the  waters.  The  pool,  always  dark  in  its  great 
depths,  soon  became  black  as  a  starless  midnight. 
There  were  rocks  on  either  side  of  him,  rushing 
waters  above  him  and  boiling  rapids  below  him. 
His  line  was  invisible,  and  the  only  perceptible 
sign  of  life  around  him  or  before  him,  was  the 
tugging  and  rushing  of  the  maddened  salmon  fight- 
ing for  his  life  amid  the  thick  darkness  which  every 
where  prevailed.  Under  any  circumstances,  the 
venerable  angler  would  rather,  a  thousand  times, 
subject  himself  to  the  merciless  criticisms  which 
a  wrong  judicial  decision  might  provoke,  than  to 
lose  a  fish.  But  under  the  circumstances  in  which, 
at  this  time,  he  was  surrounded,  he  would  rather 
have  taken  that  fish  than  to  have  been  placed  on 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  59 

the  wool-sack  of  the  United  Kingdom.  And  yet 
how  could  it  be  done  ?  It  was  useless  for  him  to 
soliloquize,  as  he  did,  "  You  beggar,  I'll  fight  you 
'till  sunrise  before  you  shall  beat  me."  Long  be- 
fore sunrise  the  fish  might  escape,  the  canoe  be 
swamped  in  some  merciless  rapid,  and  the  vener- 
able Chief  left  stranded  and  dripping  upon  some 
inhospitable  rock,  with  nothing  to  cheer  him  in 
his  wretched  loneliness  but  the  roar  of  the  thunder- 
ing waters  or  the  plaintive  notes  of  the  hooting 
night-owl.  Fortunately,  neither  an  all-night  fight 
nor  a  possible  shipwreck  awaited  him.  His  co- 
Chief  Justice  took  in  the  situation  as  readily  as  he 
catches  the  point  of  a  lawyer's  brief,  improvised  a 
few  flambeaux  and  started  off  to  the  rescue.  It 
was  a  timely  interposition,  resulting  in  perfect  suc- 
cess. The  flambeaux  made  the  surroundings  of 
the  combatants  bright  as  day,  and  in  due  time  the 
salmon  gave  up  the  fight,  was  duly  gaffed  and 
brought  into  camp,  escorted  by  the  first  torch-light 
procession  in  which  either  Chief  had  ever  before 
been  the  principal  actor. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

CAPTURE   OF   MY    FIRST    SALMON. 

"  An  '  than,"  continued  Jock,  "  whan  a  muckle  chiel  o'  a 
salmon,  wi'oot  time  tae  consider  whether  yer  flee  is  for  his 
waime  or  only  for  his  mooth  —  whether  it's  made  by  natur*  or 
by  Jock  Hall  —  plays  flap  !  and  by  mistak'  gangs  to  digest 
what  he  has  gotten  for  his  breakfast,  but  suspec's  he  canna 
swallow  the  line  along  wi'  his  mornin'  meal  till  he  takes  some 
exercise  !  —  an'  than  tae  see  the  line  ticht,  an'  the  rod  bendin' 
like  a  heuck,  an'  to  fin'  something  gaun  fra  the  fish  up  the 
line  and  up  the  rod  till  it  reaches  yer  verra  heart,  that  gangs 
pit  pat  at  yer  throat  like  a  tickin''  watch ;  until  the  bonnie 
creatur',  after  rinnin'  up  an'  doon  like  mad,  noo  sulkin  aside 
a  stane  to  cure  his  teethache,  then  bilkin  awa'  wi'  a  scunner 
at  the  line,  tryin'  every  dodge,  an'  syne  gies  in,  comes  to  )rer 
han'  clean  beat  in  fair  play,  and  lies  on  the  bank,  sayin' 
'  Waes  me  !'  wi:  his  tail,  an'  makin'  his  will  wi'  his  gills  an' 
mooth  time  aboot !  Eh  !  mon  !  it's  splendid  ! " —  [Norman 
Macleod,  D.  D.,  in  "  The  Starling" 


Y  impatience  to  make  my  first  cast 
and  take  my  first  salmon  was  so 
great  that  the  hours  consumed  in 
pitching  tents,  unpacking  stores 
and  arranging  camp  generally, 
seemed  a  sinful  waste  of  precious 
moments.  I  did  not  wish,  of 
course,  to  take  advantage  of  the 
useful  industry  and  greater  pa- 
tience of  my  companions ;  but  I 
mentally  voted  them  over  nice  in  their  anxiety  to 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  61 

u  make  things  comfortable  "  when,  in  my  state  of 
mind,  the  only  thing  which  seemed  requisite  to  the 
snpremest  comfort  was  the  capture  of  a  salmon. 
With  that  result  achieved,  I  felt  that  I  could  be 
abundantly  comfortable  sitting  upon  a  bare  rock  at 
high  noon  munching  hard  tack  and  bacon.  I  must 
in  some  way  have  manifested  my  restlessness,  for 
the  General,  trying  to  hide  his  kindliness  under  a 
very  thin  veneering  of  brusqueness,  said  to  me, 
"  D.,  you  are  of  no  earthly  use  here.  I  wish  you 
would  get  out  of  the  way  and  go  a-fishing."  As 
this  remark  was  made  several  hours  before  we  had 
mutually  agreed  to  begin  work,  I  felt  some  little 
delicacy  about  taking  advantage  of  the  "  ticket-of- 
leave"  offered  me.  But  as  in  the  language  of 
modern  theology,  I  had  an  "  inner  consciousness J; 
that  I  really  was  of  "  no  use  "  as  a  tent-pitcher,  and 
had  no  tact  as  "  a  man  of  all  work  "  in  camp  prepara- 
tions, I  soon  found  myself  moving  canoe-ward,  with 
my  salmon  and  trout  rods  strung  and  my  nerves 
in  a  tremor  in  anticipation  of  "  the  good  time 
coming  "  when  I  would  no  longer  have  to  say  "  I 
never  killed  a  salmon."  I  honestly  meant  to  show 
my  appreciation  of  the  General's  kindness  by  con- 
fining myself  exclusively  to  trout  waters.  And  my 
resolution  was  adequate  to  the  emergency  until  I 
became  weary  of  the  slaughter  I  was  making  of 


62  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

one,  two,  three  and  four-pound  trout,  and  until 
(after  floating  below  the  shallow  water)  I  wag 
"  brought  up  all  standing  "  by  the  remark  of  my 
Indian  canoe-man  :  "  Trout  plenty  no  more.  Sal- 
mon pool  here.  If  he  should  rise,  trout-rod  no 
good."  My  first  impulse  was  to  go  immediately 
back  to  camp,  and  I  had  given  the  order  to  that 
effect  when  a  grunt  of  surprise  from  my  swarthy 
friend  —  who  could  not  comprehend  how  any  one 
could  enter  a  salmon  pool  and  leave  it  unh'shed 
—  induced  me  first  to  hesitate,  then  to  countermand 
the  order,  and  then  to  appease  my  conscience  by 
the  remark :  "  Well,  I  will  make  a  few  casts  by 
way  of  practice."  No  sooner  said  than  down  went 
the  anchor  at  the  head  of  what  I  afterward  learned 
was  one  of  the  best  pools  on  the  river.  As  I 
seized  my  great  salmon  rod — which  seemed  like  a 
cedar  beam  after  the  eight-ounce  switch  with  which 
I  had  been  fishing — and  began  to  gradually  extend 
my  cast,  I  felt  as  I  suppose  the  raw  recruit  feels 
when  he  first  hears  the  rattle  of  the  enemy's  mus- 
ketry, or  as  some  very  timid  men  feel  when,  for 
the  first  time,  they  stand  up  before  a  great  multi- 
tude of  free  and  independent  electors  to  enter- 
tain and  enlighten  them  with  those  profound 
ebullitions  of  wisdom  and  those  brilliant  bursts  of 
eloquence  which  are  commonly  considered  the 
all-sufficient  and  matter-of-course  ingredients  of  a 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  63 

stump  speech.  I  had  reached  a  cast  of  perhaps 
fifty  feet,  in  a  direct  line,  and  was  watching  my  fly 
as  intently  as  ever  astronomer  watched  the  unf old- 
ings  of  a  newly  discovered  planet,  when  a  monster 
head  emerged  from  the  water,  and  with  distended 
jaws  —  disclosing  his  red  gills  so  distinctly  as  to 
make  his  throat  look,  to  my  excited  imagination, 
like  a  fiery  furnace  —  made  a  dash  (which  seemed 
like  the  splurge  of  a  sea-horse)  for  my  fly.  It  was 
my  duty,  of  course,  to  accept  the  challenge  and 
"  strike  "  at  the  right  moment  and  so  hook  my  fish 
and  take  the  chances  for  the  mastery.  But  I  had 
no  more  power  to  "  strike  "  than  if  every  limb  and 
nerve  and  muscle  was  paralyzed.  My  rod  remained 
poised  but  motionless,  and  I  stood  gazing  at  the 
spot  where  the  apparition  appeared,  in  speechless 
amazement,  while  the  fly  —  which  had,  for  a  single 
moment,  been  buried  in  that  great  open  sepulchre 
—  reappeared  upon  the  surface  quite  unconscious 
of  the  terrible  ordeal  through  which  it  had  passed. 
I  do  not  know  that  any  one  could  have  "  knocked 
me  down  with  a  feather "  at  that  particular  mo- 
ment ;  but  I  do  know  that  I  never  before  came  so 
near  "  going  off  in  a  faint,"  or  found  a  cup  of  cold 
water  more  refreshing.  I  had  heard  of  those  who 
had  had  the  "  buck  fever,"  and  I  shall  hereafter 
have  more  sympathy  and  greater  respect  for  them, 
for  I  undoubtedly  had  the  malady  in  its  most  ag- 


64  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

gravated  form,  and  felt,  as  my  astonished  guide 
said  I  looked,  "  pale  as  a  ghost." 

But  this  state  of  ridiculous  semi-stupor  lasted  but 
for  a  moment.  The  slight  twitch  I  felt  as  the  fly 
slipped  from  the  mouth  of  the  fish  operated  like 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  Every  nerve  tingled  and 
the  blood  leaped  through  my  veins  as  if  every  drop 
was  an  electric  battery.  In  a  very  few  moments, 
however,  I  was  myself  again.  I  had  marked  the 
spot  where  the  fish  had  risen,  had  gathered  up  my 
line  for  another  cast,  had  dropped  the  fly  just  where 
I  desired  it  to  rest,  when,  like  a  flash,  the  same 
enormous  head  appeared,  the  same  open  jaws  re- 
vealed themselves,  a  swirl  and  a  leap  and  a  strike 
followed,  and  my  first  salmon  was  hooked  with  a 
thud,  which  told  me  as  plainly  as  if  the  operation 
had  transpired  within  the  range  of  my  vision,  that 
if  I  lost  him  it  would  be  my  own  fault.  When 
thus  assured,  there  was  excitement  but  no  flurry. 
My  nerves  thrilled  and  every  muscle  assumed  the 
tension  of  well  tempered  steel,  but  I  realized  the 
full  sublimity  of  the  occasion,  and  a  sort  of  majes- 
tic calmness  took  the  place  of  the  stupid  inaction 
which  followed  the  first  apparition.  My  untested 
rod  bent  under  the  pressure  in  a  graceful  curve ; 
my  reel  clicked  out  a  livelier  melody  than  ever 
emanated  from  harp  or  hautboy  as  the  astonished 
fish  made  his  first  dash  ;  the  tensioned  line  emitted 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  65 

aeolian  music  as  it  stretched  and  stiffened  under  the 
strain  to  which  it  was  subjected;  and  for  fifty 
minutes  there  was  such  giving  and  taking,  such 
sulking  and  rushing,  such  leaping  and  tearing,  such 
hoping  and  fearing,  as  would  have  u  injected  life 
into  the  ribs  of  death,"  made  an  anchorite  dance  in 
very  ecstacy,  and  caused  any  true  angler  to  believe 
that  his  heart  was  a  kettle  drum,  every  sinew  a 
jews  harp,  and  the  whole  framework  of  his  excited 
nerves  a  full  band  of  music.  And  during  all  this 
time  my  canoe  rendered  efficient  service  in  keeping 
even  pace  with  the  eccentric  movements  of  the 
struggling  fish.  "  Hold  him  head  up,  if  possible," 
was  the  counsel  given  me,  and  "  make  him  work 
for  every  inch  of  line."  Whether,  therefore,  he 
took  fifty  yards  or  a  foot,  I  tried  to  make  him  pull 
for  it,  and  then  to  regain  whatever  was  taken  as 
soon  as  possible.  The  result  was  an  incessant  click- 
ing of  the  reel,  either  in  paying  out  or  in  taking  in, 
with  an  occasional  flurry  and  leap  which  could  have 
been  no  more  prevented  than  the  on-rushing  of  a 
locomotive.  Any  attempt  to  have  suddenly  checked 
him  by  making  adequate  resistance,  would  have 
made  leader,  line  or  rod  a  wreck  in  an  instant.  All 
that  it  was  proper  or  safe  to  do  was  to  give  to  each 
just  the  amount  of  strain  and  pressure  it  could 
bear  with  safety  —  not  an  ounce  more  nor  an  ounce 
less ;  and  I  believe  that  I  measured  the  pressure  so 
9 


66  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

exactly  that  the  strain  upon  my  rod  did  not  vary 
half  an  ounce  from  the  first  to  the  last  of  the 
struggle. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  fight,  when  it  was  evident 
that  the  "  jig  was  up  "  and  I  felt  myself  master  of 
the  situation,  I  took  my  stand  upon  a  projecting 
point  in  the  river,  where  the  water  was  shallow  and 
where  the  most  favorable  opportunity  possible  was 
afforded  the  gaffer  to  give  the  struggling  fish  the 
final  death-thrust,  and  so  end  the  battle.  It  was 
skillfully  done.  The  first  plunge  of  the  gaff  brought 
him  to  the  green  sward,  and  there  lay  out  before 
me,  in  all  his  silver  beauty  and  magnificent  propor- 
tions, MY  FIRST  SALMON.  He  weighed  thirty  pounds, 
plump,  measured  nearly  four  feet  in  length,  was 
killed  in  fifty  minutes  and  afforded  me  more  plea- 
sure than  any  event  since  —  well,  say  since  Lee 
surrendered.  As  he  was  thus  spread  out  before 
me,  I  could  only  stand  over  him  in  speechless 
admiration  and  delight  —  panting  with  fatigue, 
trembling  in  very  ecstacy,  and  exclaiming  with 
good  old  Sir  Izaak :  "  As  Dr.  Boteler  said  of  straw- 
berries, '  Doubtless  God  could  have  made  a  better 
berry,  but  doubtless  God  never  did ; '  and  so,  if  I 
may  judge,  God  never  did  make  a  more  calm,  quiet, 
innocent  recreation  than  angling." 

This  victory  was  a  surfeit  for  the  morning.  With 
other  fish  in  full  view,  ready  to  give  me  a  repetition 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  67 

of  the  grand  sport  I  had  already  experienced,  I 
made  no  other  cast  and  retired  perfectly  contented. 
The  beautiful  fish  was  laid  down  lovingly  in  the 
bottom  of  the  canoe  and  borne  in  triumph  to  camp, 
where  fish  and  fisher  were  given  such  hearty  wel- 
come amid  such  hilarious  enthusiasm  as  was  be- 
fitting "  the  cause  and  the  occasion." 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  I  killed  a  twen- 
ty-three pound  salmon  in  the  same  pool  in  twenty 
minutes,  having,  I  was  sorry  to  learn  on  getting 
back  to  camp,  monopolized  the  luck  of  the  day,  no 
other  member  of  the  party  having  had  so  much  as 
a  rise.  But  I  was  soon  eclipsed,  both  in  size  and 
number  —  how.  when,  where,  by  whom,  under 
what  circumstances,  and  amid  what  intense  excite- 
ment, I  will  try  and  describe  anon. 


CHAPTEE  X. 


A   FEW   NOTE-WORTHY    INCIDENTS. 

Eh,  man  !  What  a  conceit  it  is  when  ye  reach  a  fine  run,  on 
a^warm  spring  mornin',  the  wuds  hotchin'  wi'  birds,  an'  dauds 
p'  licht  noos  an'  thans  glintin'  on  the  water ;  an'  the  water 
itsel'  in  trim  order,  a  wee  doon,  after  a  nicht's  spate,  an*  wi'  a 
drap  o'  porter  in't,  an'  rovvin'  an'  bubblin'  ower  the  big  stanes, 
curlin'  into  the  linn  an'  oot  o't. — [Norman  Macleod,  D.  D. 


UB,  camp  was  unusually  pictu- 
resque,—  a  well  preserved  lawn 
separated  from  the  river  by  a 
fringe  of  alders,  backed  by  a 
few  cultivated  fields  attached  to 
the  cottage  in  our  immediate 
neighborhood,  and  surrounded 
by  lofty  mountains,  densely 
covered  from  base  to  summit 
with  spruce,  hemlock,  maple  and 
birch.  Our  three  white  tents  constituted  a  pleas- 
ant contrast  to  the  green  sward  upon  which  they 
were  pitched,  and  our  dining  hall  and  cook-house 
were  models  of  adaptability  and  neatness.  The 
taste  displayed  in  their  disposition  was  due,  first, 
to  the  military  experience  of  Col.  PELL,  and 
secondly,  to  the  austere  habits  of  system,  order 
and  neatness  for  which  the  deservedly  popular 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  60 

Collector  of  the  Port  of  New  York  is  distin- 
guished. A  better  arranged  camp,  combining 
more  of  good  taste  and  comfort,  never  was 
erected  upon  any  waters.  My  only  objection  to 
it  was  the  fear  that  the  recollection  of  it  would 
hereafter  render  me  dissatisfied  with  the  strag- 
gling, disjointed,  haphazard  way  in  which  I  have 
always  hitherto  been  content  to  camp  out.  A 
little  sound  judgment  and  good  taste  goes  a  great 
way  toward  making  even  a  fishing  camp  comfort- 
able and  attractive.  I  have  often  wondered  how 
tidy  wives  could  bear,  with  such  angelic  patience 
as  some  of  them  do,  the  careless  ways  of  their 
slovenly  husbands.  If,  as  some  insist,  nothing 
more  contributes  to  the  happiness  of  a  household 
than  habitual  neatness,  there  must  be  at  least  one 
very  happy  home  in  our  great  metropolis. 

On  the  morning  of  our  second  day  on  the  river, 
all  hands  were  ready  for  work.  The  several  pools 
were  properly  divided ;  each  resorted  to  the  one 
to  which  he  was  assigned,  with  high  hopes  and  con- 
fident anticipations.  And  the  result  justified  all 
that  was  hoped  for.  Gen.  ARTHUR,  as  was  proper, 
led  in  the  score,  although  not  in  weight.  Mr.  DUN 
stood  next ;  but  Col.  PELL  had  caught  the  cham- 
pion fish.  His  first  salmon  weighed  thirty-five 
pounds !  It  was  a  grand  achievement,  and  he  bore 
his  honors  and  good  luck  with  becoming  meekness, 


TO  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

although  he  had  killed  his  fish  in  twenty  minutes. 
This  despatch  indicated  extraordinary  skill  in  a 
novice.  ISTo  expert  could  have  done  better.  In- 
deed, it  is  not  once  in  a  hundred  times  that  a 
thirty-five-pound  salmon  is  brought  to  gaff  so 
promptly.  I  was  content  and  happy  with  a  single 
fish  of  twenty-four  pounds  as  the  result  of  my 
day's  labor. 

Every  new  day  brought  new  pleasures  and  an 
increase  of  fish ;  but  no  one  caught  more  than  five 
in  any  one  day,  and  sometimes  some  one's  count 
was  nil.  But  every  day  brought  with  it  some 
special  excitement  or  adventure,  some  new  inci- 
dent or  experience  to  break  the  monotony  of  the 
camp,  and  to  maintain  the  reputation  of  the  sport 
as  more  attractive,  inspiring  and  exciting  than  any 
other.  Among  them  were  these : 

The  General  had  been  fishing  with  but  passable 
success,  when  the  monotony  was  broken  by  a  leap 
which  indicated  greater  weight  and  dimensions 
than  anything  with  which  he  had  yet  been  favored. 
With  the  promptness  of  an  expert  he  struck  at  the 
right  moment  and  with  the  exact  force  requisite 
to  hook  his  fish  strongly  —  a  great  art,  which  few 
salmon-anglers  ever  acquire  perfectly.  Then  fol- 
lowed a  struggle  which  justified  his  estimate  of 
the  weight  of  the  fish.  For  more  than  an  hour, 
every  known  appliance  was  used  in  vain  to  bring 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  71 

him  to  gaff.  He  sulked,  plunged,  leaped  and 
rushed  as  impetuously  at  the  end  of  the  hour  as 
during  the  first  five  minutes  after  he  was  hooked. 
He  made  no  sign  of  surrender  or  weariness,  and 
was  in  one  of  his  worst  tantrums  when  the  reel 
dogged.  Any  one  with  less  experience  and  per- 
sistency than  the  General  would  have  "  thrown  up 
the  sponge "  at  such  a  mishap ;  but  he  was  equal 
to  the  emergency.  The  canoe  was  forced  rapidly 
forward  to  the  beach,  which  was  fortunately  unob- 
structed; the  General  leaped  upon  terra  firma 
with  the  agility  of  an  acrobat,  and  after  an  active 
backward  and  forward  movement  of  half  an  hour, 
manipulating  his  line  with  his  hand,  he  bagged  his 
game,  saved  his  tackling,  and  brought  to  camp  a 
thirty-four-pound  salmon.  Not  one  angler  in  a 
thousand  would  have  achieved  such  a  victory,  and 
he  deserved  the  congratulations  he  received  when 
the  magnificent  fish  was  formally  spread  out  for 
inspection. 

And  to  this  incident  there  is  a  moral.  The  reel 
which  thus  clogged  at  the  most  critical  moment, 
was  made  with  special  reference  to  extra  heavy 
work,  was  warranted  as  superior  to  any  reel  which 
had  ever  found  its  way  upon  salmon  waters,  and 
cost  a  fabulous  sum  of  money.  But  it  was  a  delu- 
sion and  a  cheat  —  as  worthless  as  tow  string  for  a 
salmon  line  and  the  .cause  of  harsher  words  with 


72  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

more  syllables  than  any  reel  that  ever  passed  under 
my  disgusted  inspection.  A  reel  that  "  ticks  like 
a  chronometer  and  moves  like  clock-work"  is  all 
very  well  in  a  show-case ;  but  a  reel  with  rough 
and  ready  action  and  straight-forward  movements, 
like  a  man  with  "  no  nonsense  about  him,"  is  the 
reel  for  service.  It  was  the  last  bit  of  work  that 
fancy  reel  was  called  upon  to  do  during  our  three 
weeks  on  the  Cascapedia. 

Another  incident,  equally  exciting,  but  resulting 
less  fortunately,  happened  to  the  General  upon 
another  occasion.  He  had  solidly  hooked  a  very 
large  fish  in  a  pool  where  large  fish  pre-eminently 
abound.  He  sulked  persistently.  For  nearly  an 
hour  he  remained  as  im-movabl^  as  a  rock.  No 
strain  which  it  was  safe  to  impose  upon  the  rod 
could  move  him.  He  simply  wouldn't  stir.  Noth- 
ing is  more  provoking,  and  nothing  more  tries  the 
patience  of  the  most  patient  angler.  The  fatigue 
is  even  greater  than  when  hooked  to  a  fish  that 
deems  "action,  action,  action,"  quite  as  essential 
to  liberty  as  the  rhetorician  declares  the  same 
qualities  indispensable  to  effective  oratory.  The 
tension  must  be  equally  preserved,  without  a 
moment's  relaxation,  whatever  moods  the  fish  may 
assume  or  whatever  freaks  may  move  him.  To 
be  obliged  to  stand  an  hour  thus  pulling  upon  an 
immovable  object,  until  every  muscle  in  one's 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  73 

arms  seems  ready  to  come  out  in  shreds,  is  about 
as  wearisome  a  position  as  any  angler  can  be 
placed  in ;  and  it  would  not  be  strange  if,  during 
some  moments  of  this  long  tussle,  he  is  inclined  to 
the  opinion  that,  after  all,  it  may  be  true,  as  the 
cynic  hath  said,  that  angling  is  an  exercise  which 
requires  a  rod  and  line  with  a  worm  at  one  end 
and  a  fool  at  the  other.  But  even  such  a  struggle 
has  its  compensations,  and  every  true  angler  would 
gladly  bear  even  tenfold  the  fatigue  involved  in 
such  labor  rather  than  surrender  one  iota  of  the 
intensely  pleasurable  excitement  he  derives  from 
it.  But  as  there  is  an  end  to  all  things,  so  there  is 
an  end  to  a  salmon's  sulks.  When  well  nigh 
weary  to  exhaustion,  and  when  almost  ready  to 
make  the  effort  to  force  him  from  his  hole  if  every 
inch  of  rod  and  tackle  should  be  smashed  in  the 
effort,  the  patient  angler  found  the  fish  rushing 
as  determinedly  as  he  before  had  sulked.  More 
than  two  hundred  feet  of  line  went  out  of  the  reel 
in  a  flash ;  and  it  became  now  even  harder  to  stop 
than  it  was  before  to  start  him.  Rush  followed 
rush  in  such  quick  succession  that  scarcely  a  yard 
of  line  remained  in  reserve.  The  only  hope  was 
in  the  equally  rapid  movement  of  the  canoe.  The 
boatmen  were  as  eager  and  excited  as  the  fisher- 
man, and  whatever  muscle  could  accomplish  was 
done.  It  was  a  race  for  life  on  one  hand  and  for 
10 


74  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

conquest  on  the  other.  In  a  moment  the  pool 
was  left  far  back  in  the  distance.  Now  one  rapid 
and  now  another  was  passed.  Shallows  were 
avoided  and  rocks  were  shunned  with  a  skill  which 
was  as  marvelous  as  the  wonderful  strength  and 
vitality  of  the  fish.  A  full  mile  had  been  thus 
gone  over  with  lightning-like  velocity.  The  Gen- 
eral had  not  for  a  moment  lost  either  his  head  or 
his  feet.  The  line  was  held  with  an  even  hand, 
and  the  signs  indicated  a  speedy  triumph  of 
mind  over  matter,  and  skill  over  brute  force,  when 
(may  stale  fish  be  his  diet  for  a  fortnight ! )  one  of 
the  men,  by  a  wrong  movement  of  his  paddle,  sent 
the  canoe  directly  beneath  an  overhanging  tree 
which  compelled  the  General  to  lower  the  tip  of 
his  rod,  of  which  the  fish  took  instant  advantage, 
snapped  the  leader  and  was  off,  leaving  behind  him 
a  cascade  of  foam  and  followed  by  "  a  blue  streak." 
Such  an  issue  of  a  hard  fight  is  a  terrible  test  of 
one's  patience,  and  when  his  leaderless  line  came 
back  upon  him,  limp  and  empty  as  a  stale  joke,  if 
the  General  had  simply  said,  "  Boys,  go  to  camp," 
he  would  have  proved  himself  more  than  mortal. 
If  he  uttered  any  other  sentence,  the  angel's  tear 
which  fell  upon  the  hastily  spoken  word  of  Uncle 
Toby,  no  doubt  blotted  out  all  that  was  super- 
fluous and  unseemly. 

Other  incidents  of  a  like  character  were  con- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  75 

stantly  occurring.  Indeed,  the  successful  capture 
of  a  fish  that  rises  to  your  fly  is  as  frequently  the 
exception  as  the  rule.  And  this  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  hook 
used  is  not  larger  than  the  smallest  pin  when 
curved.  When  the  fish  rises  to  this  diminutive 
object,  and  the  angler  "  strikes,-''  the  chances  are  at 
least  two  to  one  that  it  will  slip  out  of  the  huge 
jaws  of  the  eager  fish.  And  even  when  the  hook 
catches  some  part  of  the  exposed  surface,  it  is  quite 
as  likely  to  catch  where  the  fibre  is  tender  as  where 
it  is  tough.  But  if  hooked  just  right,  there  is  still 
the  contingency  of  imperfect  tackling,  a  misshapen 
hook,  a  brittle  loop,  a  frayed  leader,  or  a  deceptive 
line ;  and  superadded  to  all  these,  are  the  hidden 
rocks  against  which  line  or  leader  is  often  chafed 
up  to  the  point  of  separation.  With  these  and 
many  other  chances  against  the  angler,  the  wonder 
is  not  that  he  often  loses  a  fish,  but  that  he  succeeds 
in  killing  so  many.  And  yet  it  is  this  uncertainty 
— these  always  possible  and  frequently  occurring 
contingencies  —  which  give  to  the  science  its  great- 
est charm,  and  make  success  something  of  which 
to  be  proud. 


CHAPTEK  XI. 

SALMON    HABITS    AND   A   LOST   BATTLE. 
A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush. — [Old  adage. 

"  OTWITHSTANDING  our  suc- 
cess, we  are  every  day  made  con- 
scious that  we  are  too  late  for 
the  best  fishing.  Some  of  the 
pools  from  which  half  a  score 
of  salmon  could  be  taken  in  a 
day  previous  to  the  middle  of 
July,  are  now  barren  of  fish ; 
and  in  many  others,  a  day  may 
be  consumed  in  achieving  what  could  then  be 
accomplished  in  an  hour.  Salmon  begin  to  run 
into  fresh  water  early  in  June,  or  so  soon  as  the 
Spring  freshets  are  over;  and  then  they  show 
their  greatest  life  and  voracity.  From  that  time 
on  to  the  middle  of  July,  they  are  most  active 
and  rise  most  readily  to  any  object  which  attracts 
their  attention.  After  that — when  they  have 
been  a  month  or  more  in  fresh  water  —  they 
become  somewhat  sluggish  and  less  disposed  to 
rise.  Besides,  the  water  becomes  so  shallow  and 
transparent  that  the  very  shadow  of  the  line  is 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  77 

distinctly  visible ;  and  no  fish  is  more  shy  or  more 
easily  frightened.  To  take  a  salmon  under  these 
circumstances  requires  the  exercise  of  the  greatest 
patience,  and  to  take  them  in  any  great  numbers 
is  proof  of  the  very  highest  skill.  I  would  never 
advise  any  one  who  has  to  make  a  long  journey  to 
reach  salmon  waters  to  go  later  than  the  first  of 
July,  except  on  compulsion.  Better  fish  in  August 
than  not  fish  at  all,  but  you  will  be  sure  of  a  larger 
catch  in  one  week  toward  the  close  of  June  than 
during  a  whole  month  after  the  fifteenth  of  July. 

It  is,  however,  no  proof  that  there  are  no  salmon 
in  a  pool  because  they  do  not  rise.  I  have  more 
than  once  cast  all  day  in  a  pool  alive  with  leaping 
salmon — above,  below  and  all  around  me — with- 
out being  able  to  lure  one  to  my  hook.  This  is 
one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  fish  I  cannot  fathom. 
My  own  experience  is  the  experience  of  every  one 
who  has  ever  spent  even  a  week  upon  a  salmon 
river. 

It  is  generally  believed  that  salmon  eat  nothing 
after  they  enter  fresh  water ;  and  their  apparently 
empty  stomachs  when  dissected  are  cited  in  proof 
of  the  theory.  But  if  they  eat  nothing,  and  have 
no  desire  to  do  so,  why  do  they  rise  to  a  living  or 
artificial  object  ?  Why  do  they  often  even  gorge 
the  fly  and  rise  to  a  minnow,  or  take  a  minnow  or 
a  fly  when  trolled  under  the  surface,  or  when 


78  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

dropped  as  bait  is  ordinarily  dropped  in  still  fish- 
ing ?  The  general  absence  of  food  from  the  stom- 
ach is  seemingly  conclusive  of  the  total  abstinence 
theory ;  but  better  believe  anything  marvelous  or 
improbable  than  that  a  salmon  lives  through  six 
months  or  any  number  of  months  of  the  year  in  a 
state  of  constant  activity,  and  during  the  exhaustive 
process  of  generation,  without  imbibing  any  par- 
ticle of  food.  It  it  just  as  improbable  that  it  does 
so  as  it  would  be  unnatural. 

But  I  have  neither  the  wish  nor  the  knowledge 
requisite  to  enter  upon  an  intelligent  discussion 
of  any  of  the  habits  or  peculiarities  of  this  fish. 
This  is  neither  the  purpose  nor  the  intent  of  these 
rambling  letters. 

In  my  last  I  referred  to  some  of  the  more  note- 
worthy incidents  which  occurred  to  Gen.  AKTHUE. 
Others  had  almost  equally  exciting  experiences. 
None  of  our  party  had  greater  skill,  or  were  made 
happy  by  greater  success,  than  Mr.  DUN.  He  kept 
even  pace  with  the  General,  and  often  distanced 
myself.  Of  course  I  attributed  this  to  his  longer 
practice;  it  could  have  been  nothing  else!  But 
while  he  had  his  successes  he  also  had  his  mis- 
haps. The  most  notable  was  this :  He  had  hooked 
a  very  large  fish  at  the  camp-pool,  which  began  the 
fight  magnificently.  I  never  saw  a  fish  leap  more 
spitefully  or  make  more  determined  efforts  to 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  79 

escape.  But  he  was  managed  so  splendidly  that 
at  the  end  of  an  hour  and  a  half  all  the  lookers-on 
voted  him  sure  to  be  bagged.  Directly  below  the 
pool  where  he  was  struck,  and  to  which  he  had 
been  restricted,  was  a  heavy  rapids  which  the 
canoe-men  were  anxious,  if  possible,  to  avoid. 
They  advised,  therefore,  rather  than  to  allow  the 
fish  to  shoot  these  rapids,  that  he  should  be,  as 
gently  as  possible,  coaxed  over  to  a  cove  of  deep 
water  lying  behind  some  large  rocks  above  the 
rapids  and  near  the  middle  of  the  pool.  This 
advice  was  taken,  and  in  effecting  the  change  of 
base  the  fish  gave  a  series  of  leaps  which  revealed 
the  full  dimensions  of  the  largest  salmon,  by  many 
pounds,  I  ever  saw.  When  asked  for  an  estimate 
of  his  weight,  the  Indian  gaffer  simply  held  up  his 
paddle  to  indicate  that  that,  in  his  opinion,  was 
about  his  measure.  The  desired  cove  was  securely 
reached.  The  fish  changed  his  tactics  from  leaping 
to  sulking,  as  they  most  generally  do  in  deep,  still 
water,  and  at  the  end  of  two  full  hours  was  seem- 
ingly as  far  from  being  a  dead  fish  as  at  any  mo- 
ment during  the  struggle.  Thinking  he  would  be 
able  to  manage  him  better  and  hold  him  more 
comfortably  on  the  rock  than  in  the  canoe,  Mr. 
DUN  made  the  transfer,  sitting  down  as  coolly  and 
unflurried  as  if  he  were  casting  up  the  interest  on 
a  long  note  instead  of  fighting  a  hard  battle  with 


80  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

a  forty-five-pound  salmon.  I  took  my  seat  beside 
him,  intensely  interested  in  the  contest,  and  en- 
deavored to  rest  his  weary  muscles  by  congratu- 
lating him  upon  the  grand  sport  he  was  having, 
and  expressing  my  admiration  of  the  splendid  way 
in  which  he  was  handling  his  fish.  But  he  shook 
his  head  doubtfully,  and  expressed  his  fears  of  the 
issue.  "I  don't  like,"  he  said,  "the  occasional 
feel  of  my  line.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  fellow  is 
rubbing  his  nose  against  a  rock,  trying  to  chafe  off 
my  leader.  There  it  goes  again !  I  must  get  out 
of  this  or  I  shall  lose  him,  sure."  The  fight  had 
been  going  on  now  for  two  hours  and  fifteen  min- 
utes by  the  watch,  and  Mr.  D.  had  just  made  his 
first  step  toward  the  canoe,  when  up  came  the 
broken  leader,  the  sad  memento  of  a  lost  battle ! 
Just  what  he  feared  had  happened,  and  what  was 
undoubtedly  the  largest  fish  that  had  been  hooked 
this  season,  "turned  tail"  upon  his  discomfited 
captor.  And  there  was  silence  for  the  space  of  a 
minute.  Fisher,  gaffer  and  lookers-on  were  equally 
speechless.  If  any  one  was  tempted  to  blaspheme, 
he  evidently  felt  that  "  he  had  nothing  in  his  vo- 
cabulary at  all  adequate  to  the  occasion,"  and  said 
nothing.  I  had  always  admired  the  complacent 
serenity  with  which  my  poor  friend  had  borne  the 
crosses  of  life,  but  on  this  occasion  his  serenity 
touched  the  verge  of  the  sublime.  Happy  man 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  81 

who  can  thus  lose  a  (say)  fifty-pound  salmon  with- 
out intermitting  a  single  puff  of  his  cigar !  Many 
a  saint  has  been  canonized  who  never  exhibited  the 
angelic  virtues  of  uncomplaining  submission  and 
gentle  patience  in  such  sublime  measure. 

Another  mishap  occurred  in  this  wise  :  When 
I  was  fighting  what  afterward  proved  to  be  a 
thirty-four  pound  fish  (my  largest),  and  just  at  a 
most  critical  moment,  I  found  that  my  line  had 
become  crossed  and  "  doubled  under  "  on  my  reel. 
I  could  take  in  at  pleasure,  but  I  could  not  let  out 
an  inch.  It  was  an  awkward  fix ;  but  as  good  luck 
would  have  it,  by  risking  an  extra  strain  upon  my 
rod  I  soon  regained  more  line  than  was  afterward 
called  for,  and  saved  my  fish.  The  dilemma  was 
the  result  of  careless  reeling.  One  cannot  be  too 
particular  in  seeing  that  his  line  is  reeled  up  close- 
ly and  without  a  lap.  I  lost  a  salmon  before  I 
thoroughly  learned  this  useful  lesson. 

These  mishaps,  however,  were  but  exceptions  to 
the  rule  of  good  luck,  although  it  is  undoubtedly 
the  experience  of  most  salmon  anglers  that  they 
miss  a  great  many  more  fish  that  rise  than  they 
hook,  and  lose  a  great  many  more  that  are  hooked 
than  they  kill.  At  least  that  was  our  experience. 
Enough,  however,  were  killed,  and  of  sufficient 
weight,  to  satisfy  the  ambition  of  the  most  ambi- 
tious in  our  party.  On  the  General's  large  score 
11 


82  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

was  marked  one  fish  of  forty  odd  pounds,  and  sev- 
eral others  approximating  that  weight.  Mr.  DUN'S 
score  fully  equaled  that  of  the  General,  and  em- 
braced one  or  more  of  the  same  weight,  with  sev- 
eral ranging  from  thirty  pounds  upward.  Col. 
PELL,  with  a  somewhat  smaller  score,  approached 
the  most  successful  of  the  party  in  weight.  My 
first  three  fish  weighed  eighty-eight  pounds  (30,  24 
and  34)  and  my  three  largest  ninety-three  pounds 
(34,  30  and  29) ;  but  my  heaviest  fish  weighed  only 
thirty-four  pounds  —  several  pounds  less  than  the 
largest  which  honored  the  scores  of  Gen.  ARTHUR 
and  Mr.  DtiN,  and  less  than  the  largest  taken  by 
Col.  PELL.  In  June  and  early  July  better  scores 
were  made,  and  a  few  larger  fish  were  taken  —  as 
high  as  forty-eight  pounds  —  but  I  am  sure  no  other 
party  was  ever  better  pleased  with  their  achieve- 
ments or  more  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  sport. 

Our  trip  to  the  Forks  of  the  river,  nearly  fifty 
miles  up  stream,  with  a  description  of  the  grand 
scenery  which  met  us  at  every  step,  the  beautiful 
camp  we  erected  and  adorned,  the  grand  rapids  we 
ascended,  the  splendid  fishing  we  had,  our  return 
flight  through  the  rapids,  with  the  thousand  and 
one  pleasant  incidents  that  made  every  day  too 
short  and  the  breaking  up  of  camp  the  only  un- 
happy moment  —  all  these  will  form  the  theme  of 
future  chapters.  I  will  only  now  say,  in  closing 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  83 

this  record  of  my  first  year's  visit  to  the  Cascapedia, 
that  our  trip  up  the  river  was  marked  by  two  un- 
usual occurrences  —  the  sight  of  a  huge  Black  Bear, 
which  abound  in  this  region,  and  of  a  large  Moose, 
which  are  here  as  thick  as  deer  in  the  Adirondacks. 
The  former  was  "  loafing  'round "  on  a  pebbly 
beach,  and  the  latter  was  crossing  the  river,  soon 
after  sunrise,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of 
our  camp.  All  hands  were  routed  out  to  see  him, 
and  the  shootist  of  our  party  had  the  good  fortune 
to  —  miss  him,  although  within  easy  rifle  range. 
But  who  could  hit  his  first  Moose  before  fairly 
awake?  The  monster  was  as  large  as  a  Jersey 
cow,  with  great  spreading  antlers,  but  he  moved  as 
sprightly  as  a  grey-hound  when  he  discovered  his 
proximity  to  our  camp. 

It  is  a  pleasure  also  to  say  that  we  remember 
gratefully  the  courtesies  of  Mr.  MOFFAT,  of  Dal- 
housie,  and  the  unceasing  attentions  of  Mr.  MONT- 
GOMERY, Collector  of  the  Port,  who  made  our  day's 
stay  in  the  town  one  of  unalloyed  pleasure.  Both 
gentlemen  placed  our  party  under  lasting  obliga- 
tions, and  their  kindness  and  hospitality  will  always 
be  associated  with  the  pleasant  memories  we  shall 
ever  cherish  of  ou  •  first  visit  to  these  salmon  waters. 


SECOND  VISIT  TO  THE  CASCAPEDIA. 


CHAPTEK  XII. 


SOME   REMINISCENCES   OF   OLD   FRIENDS. 

Did  ever  any  one  see  the  like  !  What  a  heap  of  trumpery 
is  here ;  and  since  I  find  you  an  honest  man,  I  will  make  no 
scruples  in  laying  my  treasures  before  you.  —  [Charles  Cotton. 


taking  down  my  store  of  ang- 
ling implements  from  their  win- 
ter's repose,  I  found  them  as  I 
had  left  them,  after  a  long  siege 
of  service.  They  were  as  wel- 
come as  the  faces  of  old  friends  ; 
and  the  older  the  more  welcome. 
There  was  the  identical  "  sil- 
ver doctor"  with  which  I  took 
my  first  salmon  last  year  —  dim 
and  frayed  from  hard  service,  but  more  precious 
from  association  than  all  its  score  of  gaudy  com- 
panions. What  any  fly  would  do,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, for  any  one,  that  fly  did  for  me. 
Whether  in  sunshine  or  cloud  —  whether  in  un- 
tried waters  or  where  each  ripple,  rock  and  eddy 
were  as  familiar  as  household  words  —  whether, 
when  no  breeze  disturbed  the  silvery  surface  of 


88  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

the  river  or  when  the  storm  howled  all  around  me 
—  always  and  in  all  places  it  was  true  to  its  office. 
We  sometimes  have  such  friends,  and  because 
some  such  have  been  brought  to  mind  by  this  tiny 
memento  of  forest  life,  I  will  place  it  on  the  re- 
tired list,  lest  it  should  disappoint  me  should  I 
again  test  it,  and  so  the  pleasant  memories  I  have 
of  it  be  dimmed  by  the  recollection  of  a  single 
failure.  Even  friendship  may  get  weary,  and  he 
is  wise  who  never  overtasks  it. 

Here  is  another  memento  —  a  Limerick  hook, 
which  proved  a  faithful  friend  in  all  waters  for 
many  years.  I  took  my  first  trout  with  it  in  1853, 
from  a  mill-pond  not  far  from  Coburg  in  Canada. 
The  water  was  as  transparent  as  the  atmosphere. 
I  had  whipped  every  inch  of  it  in  vain.  ~Not  a 
fish  would  rise  to  any  fly  I  could  muster.  In  des- 
pair I  had  resort  to  bait,  and  dropping  my  line 
into  deep  water  within  a  few  feet  of  a  sunken 
brush-heap,  I  was  startled  on  seeing  coming  out 
from  beneath  it,  with  a  sedate  and  complacent 
gravity,  a  massive  and  graceful  trout,  evidently 
quite  intent  upon  the  tempting  lure  which  I  had 
placed  before  him.  But  he  moved  very  slowly,  as 
if  confident  that  what  his  eye  was  fixed  upon  could 
not  escape  him;  and  as  if,  like  an  experienced 
epicure,  he  was  determined  to  enjoy  in  anticipa- 
tion the  feast  which  he  was  sure  of,  he  smacked 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  89 

his  lips,  as  trout  often  do,  and  dashed  at  last  for 
the  bait.  I  struck  him  on  the  instant,  but  too 
soon.  I  knew  he  was  badly  hooked,  and  felt  that 
to  save  him  would  require  most  careful  handling. 
The  bank  upon  which  I  stood  was  three  or  four 
feet  above  the  water,  and  the  water  two  yards 
from  the  bank  was  twenty  feet  in  depth.  After 
a  struggle  of  ten  minutes,  I  saw  that  with  the  del- 
icate hold  I  had  of  him  it  would  be  impossible 
either  to  kill  or  lift  him,  and  having  neither  land- 
ing net  nor  gaff,  JAMES  WILD  —  who  as  a  looker- 
on  was  even  more  excited  than  myself  —  begged 
of  me  to  lead  the  fish  close  to  the  bank,  when  he 
could,  he  thought,  by  taking  the  line  near  the 
hook,  slide  him  out  of  the  water  in  safety.  I  was 
afraid  of  the  experiment  and  suggested  my  hat  as 
a  substitute  for  a  landing  net ;  but  he,  as  he  always 
is,  was  sanguine  of  success  and  I  submitted. 
Never  was  fish  led  more  delicately,  and  he  fol- 
lowed my  lead  as  kindly  as  a  pet  lamb,  until  I  held 
him  within  three  feet  of  WILD'S  stand-point.  Seiz- 
ing the  line,  and  poising  himself  with  artistic  pre- 
cision, he  slid  the  beautiful  creature  out  of  the 
water  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  when  the 
hook  was  disengaged,  and,  with  a  single  shake  of 
his  tail,  as  if  in  defiance,  he  plunged  back  into  his 
native  element,  and  /  after  him  !  Seeing  that  the 
momentum  which  W.  gave  him  was  not  sufficient 
12 


90  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

to  save  him,  I  instinctively  threw  myself  forward 
to  scoop  him  up,  but  failed,  and  found  myself 
the  next  instant  coming  up  myself  through  the 
pure  water  into  which  I  had  plunged  in  my  fruit- 
less efforts  to  save  the  fish  !  WILD  never  moved  a 
muscle,  but  pointing  to  a  spot  a  few  rods  distant, 
quietly  suggested  to  me  to  "  swim  yonder ;  it's  a 
good  place  to  get  out  at !  "  He  has  never  offered 
to  land  a  fish  for  me  from  that  day  to  this. 

I  have  other  pleasant  recollections  of  this  Lime- 
rick. Trees  have  been  climbed,  brooks  have  been 
forded,  and  stout  garments  have  been  cut,  to  pre- 
serve it ;  and  here  it  is  to-day,  good  as  new  and 
ready  for  instant  service.  I  shall  preserve  it  as  an 
heir-loom,  and  it  shall  go  down  to  posterity  with 
my  "  silver  doctor "  certified,  under  my  hand  and 
seal,  as  a  friend  who  never  failed  me. 

And  here  is  a  Reel,  with  every  movement  out  of 
gear  and  quite  as  unfit  for  service  as  a  broken  rod. 
And  yet  I  would  as  soon  think  of  burning  the  let- 
ters of  an  old  friend  as  to  throw  it  away ;  for  I 
never  look  at  it  without  having  come  up  before 
me  a  thousand  pleasant  reminiscences  of  angling 
waters  in  the  Canadas,  in  Wisconsin,  Yermont,  New 
Hampshire,  Maine,  and  the  lakes  and  rivers  which 
make  an  angler's  paradise  of  our  own  northern 
forests.  It  rendered  its  first  service  in  the  waters 
of  the  Chateaugay  lakes  —  once  famous  as  the  best 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  91 

trout  waters  on  our  northern  border.  This  was  so 
long  since  that  it  is  like  sprinkling  snow-flakes  upon 
my  frosted  locks  to  think  of  it.  My  companions 
were  James  Cook,  Alfred  Clark  and  Duncan  Pell. 
They  have  all  crossed  the  dark  river ;  but  the  recol- 
lection of  then-  virtues  and  good  fellowship  remains 
as  a  pleasant  memory.  During  that  excursion  I 
remember  that  Gen.  Cook  wagered  Mr.  Pell  that 
a  three-pound-and-a-quarter  brook  trout  I  had  taken 
in  the  inlet  could  not  be  beaten.  As  Mr.  Pell  had 
just  captured  one  which  weighed  five  pounds  and 
a  quarter,  of  course  the  General  lost  the  wager. 
Both  fish,  within  twenty-four  hours,  were  served 
up  as  the  crowning  dish  of  a  sumptuous  dinner 
given  to  a  select  party  of  friends  by  Hamilton  Fish, 
then  the  chief  executive  of  the  State  as  he  is  now 
the  honored  head  of  the  Washington  cabinet.  It 
is  rare  indeed  that  two  such  brook  trout  are  ever 
taken  from  any  of  the  rivers  in  our  own  State. 
They  are  common  in  the  Rangely  waters,  but  no- 
where else  within  our  own  territory  this  side  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

And  this  "  leader  "  has  its  history.  I  bought  it 
in  Montreal,  years  ago,  when  I  found  myself  too 
late  for  a  pleasure  trip  to  the  Saguenay  for  salmon. 
Falling  in  with  an  expert,  he  proposed  that  we 
should  try  the  streams  intersecting  the  railroad  be- 
tween Montreal  and  Portland.  The  suggestion  was 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 


an  agreeable  one,  and  we  were  soon  pushing  our 
way  from  Island  Pond  to  a  famous  brook  and  lake 
some  five  miles  distant.  The  day  was  intensely 
hot,  and  we  despaired  of  success  unless  we  should 
have  the  luck  to  strike  a  "  spring-hole."  This,  after 
hours  of  seeking,  we  failed  to  find  in  the  brook ; 
and  the  lake  (whose  shores  were  composed  of  mud 
and  quick-sand)  gave  no  better  promise.  But  as 
the  sun-glare  began  to  pass  from  the  face  of  the 
water,  trout  were  observed  to  "  break  "  in  a  narrow 
circle  a  few  rods  distant.  There  was  the  "  spring- 
hole  "  we  were  seeking.  But  how  to  reach  it !  A 
log-raft  was  speedily  extemporised,  and  we  had  our 
reward.  My  "leader"  was  strung  with  five  flies, 
and  in  six  casts  I  killed  eighteen  trout,  weighing 
nineteen  pounds  and  a  half.  At  one  throw  I  took 
three  which  aggregated  five  pounds  and  a  half.  I 
preserve  it  as  a  memento  of  a  happy  day. 

With  this  "  brown  hackle,"  without  intermission, 
I  killed  one  hundred  and  nine  small  trout  in  four 
hours  in  a  pond  near  Hacquette  Falls.  I  handle  it 
as  gently  as  a  relic,  not  alone  because  it  is  the  me- 
mento of  an  unusual  achievement,  but  because  the 
sight  of  it  brings  up  vividly  before  me  the  beauti- 
ful lake  where  the  trout  lay ;  its  crystal  waters ; 
the  glinting  of  its  ruffled  surface  as  the  bright  sun 
fell  upon  it ;  the  densely- wooded  hills  which  encir- 
cled it ;  the  soughing  of  the  tall  pines  as  the  sum- 


PLEASURES   OF  ANGLING.  93 

mer's  breeze  swept  through  their  branches;  the 
deer  which,  unconscious  and  unharmed,  alternately 
disported  himself  upon  the  sand-beach  and  fed  upon 
the  water  lilies  whose  snowy  crests  kept  time  to 
the  music  of  the  gentle  waves  which  rolled  up,  like 
long  belts  of  silver,  upon  the  golden  sands ;  and  the 
thrill  which  coursed  through  every  nerve  as  trout 
after  trout  leaped  to  the  cast,  and,  after  such  mani- 
pulation and  "  play "  as  only  those  who  have  had 
personal  experience  can  comprehend,  were  duly 
captured. 

And  here  are  discarded  lines,  unused  gimp,  broken 
snells,  severed  tips,  sinkers,  floats,  trolling  gangs, 
minnow  lines,  wires,  pincers,  feathers  from  duck, 
peacock  and  pigeon,  wax,  thread,  loose  .hooks, 
spoons  and  whatever  else  goes  to  make  up  an  an- 
cient angler's  "  kit."  They  have  each  filled  up  the 
measure  of  their  office,  and  deserve  the  repose 
which  they  have  earned  from  long  use  and  faithful 
service. 


CHAPTEK  XIII. 

BRIEF    TRIBUTE   TO    A    DEPARTED   FRIEND. 

To  die  is  landing  on  some  silent  shore, 
Where  billows  never  break,  nor  tempests  roar  ; 
Ere  well  we  feel  the  friendly  stroke,  t'is  o'er. 

—  [Garth, 

Nor  kings  nor  nations 
One  moment  can  retard  th'  appointed  hour. 

—  \Dryden. 

The  world's  an  inn,  and  death's  the  journey's  end. 

—  [Ibid 

Since  then  our  Arcite  is  with  honor  dead, 

Why  should  we  mourn  that  he  so  soon  is  freed  ? 

—  [Ibid. 

i  HE  pleasurable  emotions  usually  ex- 
cited by  needed  work  preparatory 
to  our  annual  excursion,  were 
chastened  upon  this  occasion  by 
the  recollection  that  one  of  the 
four  who  made  up  our  party  last 
year  —  the  youngest,  the  most 
buoyant  and  the  best  beloved  — 
will  never  again  join  us  in  our 
pleasant  angling  expeditions.  Soon 
after  his  return  home  last  summer,  without  pre- 
monition, "  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,"  he  was 
called  to  pass  the  dark  river.  His  sudden  death, 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  95 

from  an  organic  malady  which  no  care  could 
avert,  made  a  happy  home  desolate,  and  cast  a 
shadow  over  many  loving  hearts.  No  one  of  us 
anticipated  a  return  to  the  Cascapedia  more  confi- 
dently or  with  greater  delight.  But  it  was  not  to 
be.  We  shall  miss  him>  for  he  was  the  life  and 
inspiration  of  the  camp,  as  he  was  the  ever-wel- 
come guest  of  every  social  circle.  There  only 
remains  to  us  the  recollection  of  his  pleasant  ways 
and  joyous  companionship. 

After  his  return  home,  and  a  few  days  before 
his  death,  he  gave  expression  to  the  memories  he 
cherished  of  the  Cascapedia  in  the  following  beau- 
tiful lines : 

THE  CHALEUR  BAY  — 1874. 

AFTER  FATHER  PROUT'S  SHANDON  BELLS. 

With  deep  affection, 

And  recollection, 
I  often  think  of  the  Chaleur  Bay; 

Whose  river  wild,  would, 

In  age  or  childhood, 
Cast  round  men's  fancies,  its  magic  sway. 

There  memory  drifting  — 

The  past  uplifting, 
Brings  well-remembered  scenes  of  summer  time ; 

The  sportsman's  pleasure, 

Or  grateful  leisure, 
On  Cascapedia's  pine-clad  banks  sublime. 

I've  seen  the  river, 

That  thundering  ever, 
Roars  at  Niagara  its  mighty  tone, 

But  the  bosom  smiling, 

All  care  beguiling, 
Fair  Cascapedia!  'tis  all  thy  own. 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 


The  Hudson  splendid, 

With  floods  descended 
From  tow'ring  summits,  rising  range  on  range. 

With  stately  motion 

Moves  toward  the  ocean, 
But  equals  not  thy  ever  beauteous  change. 

When  old  and  hoary, 

From  life's  dull  story 
We  turn  and  gaze  along  our  backward  way. 

Dim  eyes  will  lighten, 

And  old  hearts  will  brighten, 
To  see  our  river  on  the  Chaleur  Bay. 

—  ID.  Archie  Pdl. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SECOND   VISIT   TO   THE   CASCAPEDIA WHO   MADE    UP 

THE    PARTY. 

Let  us  to  the  ancient  woods  :  I  say,  let  us  value  the  woods. 
They  are  full  of  solicitations. — \Thoreau. 


1  leave  the  town  with  its  hundred  noises, 
Its  clatter  and  whir  of  wheel  and  steam, 

For  woodland  quiet  and  silvery  voices, 
With  a  forest  camp  by  a  crystal  stream. 

—\G.   W.  Nears. 


HEBE  are  scores  of  salmon  rivers 
between  Quebec  and  Labrador, 
but  they  are  not  all  equally  at- 
tractive. In  some  there  are  but 
few  fish ;  in  others  the  fish  are 
uniformly  small ;  in  others  still 
there  are  ten  grisle  to  one  sal- 
mon ;  in  still  others  the  pools  are 
separated  by  great  distances,  and 
many  of  them  are  subject  to 
such  sudden  floods  and  such  frequent  discolo- 
ration of  their  waters  as  to  render  fishing  pre- 
carious and  unsatisfactory,  except  at  such  remote 
and  uncertain  intervals  as  to  weary  the  most 
patient  angler.  There  are,  however,  a  multitude 
of  rivers  in  which  the  fish  are  large  and  abundant, 
13 


98  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

where  the  pools  are  numerous  and  accessible,  where 
grisle  are  seldom  encountered,  and  where  the 
scenery  is  as  magnificent  as  the  fishing  is  superb. 
A  few  of  these  rivers  are  within  easy  reach  of 
steamboat,  railroad  and  telegraph  communication. 
Others  (and  many  of  the  best  of  them)  are  so  far 
from  these  conveniences  that  business  men,  who 
do  not  care  to  put  themselves  wholly  beyond  the 
reach  of  their  correspondents,  seldom  visit  them. 

Several  of  both  these  classes  of  rivers  were 
available  to  our  party  the  present  season,  and  it 
was  not  until  late  in  May  that  it  was  finally  deter- 
mined to  revisit  the  Cascapedia  —  the  scene  of  our 
last  year's  exploits,  and,  taking  it  all  in  all,  one  of 
the  very  best  rivers  on  the  continent.  While  it  is 
as  true  of  angling  as  of  every  thing  else,  that 
"  variety 's  the  very  spice  of  life,"  we  were  all  glad 
when  this  conclusion  was  reached  ;  for  we  had  such 
pleasant  recollections  of  this  river  —  of  its  grand 
pools,  its  monster  salmon  and  its  magnificent 
scenery  —  that  the  thought  of  change  was  never 
agreeable. 

We  proceeded  to  our  destination  over  the  same 
route  as  last  year — >via  Boston,  Portland,  Ban- 
gor,  St.  John  and  Shediac  by  rail,  and  thence  some 
three  Imndred  miles  by  steamboat.  The  route  is 
a  very  pleasant  one,  but  neither  shorter  nor  pleas- 
anter  than  by  way  of  Quebec,  from  whence  a  fine 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  99 

steamer  leaves  once  a  week,  for  Gaspe,  Dalhousie, 
Pictou,  etc.  The  sail  by  this  latter  route  through 
the  Gulf  and  Bays  which  intervene,  is  one  of  the 
most  delightful  imaginable  if  the  weather  is  pleas- 
ant and  no  fogs  show  themselves.  Those  who 
want  to  know  all  about  it  are  referred  to  Har- 
per's recently  published  "  Guide  to  the  Maritime 
Provinces." 

Dalhousie,  where  we  left  the  steamer,  is  "  beau- 
tiful for  situation,"  but  only  interesting  to  anglers 
as  being  the  centre  of  several  of  the  best  salmon 
rivers  on  the  continent.  The  Restigouche  empties 
into  the  bay  of  Chaleur  in  its  immediate  neighbor- 
hood, and  the  Cascapedia  lies  on  the  opposite  shore 
only  a  few  miles  distant.  The  former  is  by  far 
the  larger  river,  and  has  abundant  room  for  a  score 
of  rods ;  but  while  the  Cascapedia  is  of  less  vol- 
ume, it  is  generally  preferred,  not  only  because 
the  fish  are  uniformly  larger,  but  because  the  pools 
are  more  distinctly  marked  and  the  scenery  more 
attractive. 

And  this  latter  consideration  never  fails  to  enter 
into  the  calculations  of  the  true  angler ;  for  it  is 
a  great  mistake  to  assume  that  his  fondness  for 
the  art  has  no  other  or  higher  inspiration  than  the 
anticipated  excitement  of  catching  fish.  Many 
excellent  trout  streams  wend  their  way,  for  long 
distances,  through  flat  lands  and  tangled  morasses. 


100  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

I  have  been  beguiled  to  such  sluggish  streams  by 
glowing  representations  of  large  fish  and  plenty  of 
them.  But  I  could  never  be  tempted  to  repeat  my 
visit.  Half  the  pleasure,  and  more,  of  camp-life 
depends  upon  where  you  pitch  your  tent.  "Who- 
ever has  imbibed  the  gentle  and  poetic  spirit  of 
the  old  masters  must  have  pleasant  surroundings 
or  he  soon  wearies  of  the  sport.  To  enjoy  the 
pastime  in  full  measure  there  must  be  rapid  and 
cascade,  rock  and  mountain,  forest  and  flower,  song- 
bird and  murmuring  waters.  •  The  rise  and  strike 
and  play  of  a  mammoth  trout  or  salmon  is  to  the 
angler  what  the  stir  and  bustle  and  push  of  com- 
merce is  to  the  man  of  business.  They  give  buoy- 
ancy to  the  spirits,  elasticity  to  the  step,  activity 
to  the  brain  and  a  quicker  flow  to  the  life-currents 
of  the  whole  system.  But  this  season  of  busy 
activity  finds  delightful  relief  in  the  quiet  repose 
of  a  pleasant  home.  The  tug  and  swirl  and  lusty 
play  of  a  twenty-pound  salmon  thrills  the  nerves 
like  an  electric  current,  makes  every  muscle  tingle 
with  ecstacy,  and  sends  the  blood  coursing  through 
the  body  as  if  each  particular  vein  was  the  high- 
way of  an  aurora  borealis.  But  even  in  the  midst 
of  the  fierce  struggle,  his  eye  takes  in  the  scenic 
beauties  with  which  he  is  encompassed.  He  sees 
the  deep  pool  encircled  by  the  white  foam  of  the 
swift  moving  waters ;  the  ponderous  bowlders 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  101 

which  rise  like  water-giants  all  around  him ;  the 
foaming  rapid  whose  approach  is  smooth  as  glass 
and  which  reflects  back  the  sun's  rays  like  a  pol- 
ished mirror ;  the  luxuriant  foliage  which  fringes 
the  stream  and  which  is  re-produced  in  even  richer 
hues  by  the  transparent  water  into  which  it  casts 
its  refreshing  shadows ;  and  the  cloud-capped  hills 
which  are  around  him  "  as  the  mountains  are  round 
about  Jerusalem." 

Of  course,  the  supreme  business  of  the  hour 
when  hooked  to  a  fish  is  to  land  him,  but  even  this 
highest  source  of  the  angler's  pleasure  would  soon 
lose  its  charm,  if,  during  the  progress  of  the  strug- 
gle, the  eye  was  not  occasionally  relieved  by  these 
visions  of  beauty.  No,  it  is  not  all  of  fishing  to 
fish.  If  it  were,  the  angler  would  not  be  able  to 
claim  fellowship  with  the  long  line  of  poets,  philo- 
sophers, divines  and  statesmen  whose  names,  from 
the  time  of  St.  Peter  to  the  present  hour,  have 
adorned  its  annals. 

Our  party  consisted  of  Gen.  ARTHUR,  R.  G. 
DUN,  Judge  FULLERTON  and  myself  —  the  Judge 
taking  the  place  of  our  lamented  friend  PELL,  who 
was  called  to  his  rest  soon  after  his  return  home 
last  August.  While  we  greatly  missed  him,  no 
more  agreeable  companion  than  Judge  FULLERTON 
ever  cast  a  fly  or  enlivened  a  camp-fire.  He  had 
just  escaped  from  the  Brooklyn  court-room,  where 


102  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

for  months  he  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
whole  country  by  his  masterly  examination  and 
cross-examination  of  witnesses  in  the  famous 
Beecher  trial.  The  excessive  mental  labor  was  most 
exhausting,  and  no  man  anywhere  more  needed  or 
more  deserved  the  relaxation  which  nothing  so  well 
as  angling  affords.  He  had,  withal,  on  the  very 
eve  of  his  departure,  met  with  an  accident  which 
compelled  the  use  of  a  crutch,  and  which,  for  a 
time,  threatened  to  deprive  him  of  the  pleasure  of 
the  trip  and  his  friends  the  pleasure  of  his  compan- 
ionship. But,  fortunately,  he  was  able  to  start, 
whereat  he  rejoiced  more  than  when  all  men  praised 
him  for  his  marvellous  professional  skill  and  genius. 
Gen.  ARTHUE  was  also  an  invalid.  In  spite  of 
his  magnificent  physique,  sustained  by  a  constitu- 
tion perfected  by  the  accumulated  vigor  of  many 
generations,  he  had  reached  the  verge  of  complete 
exhaustion  by  overwork  and  anxiety  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  onerous  and  complicated  official  duties. 
His  great  debility  resulted  in  what  very  soon  proved 
to  be  a  most  malignant  carbuncle,  causing  him 
great  suffering  and  his  friends  extreme  uneasiness. 
But  while  his  physicians  doubted  the  propriety  of 
his  entering  upon  his  purposed  journey,  he  pre- 
ferred rather  to  take  the  risk  than  to  forego  the 
anticipated  pleasure.  So,  with  face  poulticed  and 
bandaged  as  if  he  had  been  participating  in  the 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  103 

rough  amusements  proverbially  inseparable  from  a 
"  Donnybrook  Fair,"  he  took  his  departure  full  of 
hope  that  his  ailment  would  be  but  temporary,  and 
that  he  would  find  on  the  "  fair  Cascapedia  "  that 
health  and  vigor  of  which  he  had  been  despoiled  in 
the  great  metropolis.  When,  with  a  few  friends, 
he  joined  Judge  FTJLLEKTON  with  his  crutch,  at  the 
pre-arranged  rendezvous,  they  were  both  subjected 
to  a  deal  of  chaffing,  as  fitter  subjects  for  a  hospital 
than  for  a  camp-fire,  and  better  representatives  of 
the  invalid  corps  than  of  the  jolly  guild  of  anglers. 
The  Judge,  though  quite  unfitted  to  lead  in  a  Ger- 
man, had  the  free  use  of  his  tongue  and  paid  the 
gibers  back  in  their  own  coin ;  but  the  General  was 
muzzled.  He  could  only  look  his  pity  that  gentle- 
men so  sensible  in  all  else  so  little  appreciated  the 
pleasure  which  awaited  him,  as  to  assume  that  any- 
thing short  of  a  positive  providential  prohibition 
could  prevent  any  one  who  had  ever  experienced 
the  supreme  delectation  of  angling,  from  carrying 
out  his  purpose  to  "  go  a-fishing."  But  the  exhibi- 
tion was  comical,  nevertheless,  and  the  humor  of 
it  was  quite  as  fully  enjoyed  by  the  invalids  as  by 
their  friends. 

As  the  sequel  proved,  it  would  have  been  well 
had  the  General  taken  the  advice  of  his  physician  ; 
for  his  illness  mastered  him  before  he  reached  his 
destination.  Two  weeks  of  intense  suffering  was 


104          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

the  result.  But  his  purpose  remained  unchanged  ; 
and  so  soon  as  he  could  be  safely  lifted  from  his 
couch  he  started  off  to  meet  us  —  weak  but  hope- 
ful —  assured  that  nothing  would  so  soon  set  him 
up  as  the  "  strike "  of  a  salmon  and  the  joyous 
abandon  of  camp-life.  And  he  was  right.  He 
had  been  taking  his  twenty  grains  of  quinine  every 
day  for  a  fortnight.  His  first  salmon  made  his 
torpid  blood  leap  with  all  the  vitality  of  lusty 
health.  He  very  soon  discarded  his  medicine,  as 
he  found  every  pound  of  salmon  the  full  equivalent 
of  a  grain  of  quinine.  In  forty-eight  hours  he  was 
my  chief  competitor  at  table,  a  fact  which  ena- 
bled the  Judge  to  render  the  formal  decision  that 
he  was  a  well  man  with  a  ravenous  appetite.  For 
a  week  the  Judge  limped  his  way  to  his  canoe  by 
aid  of  his  crutch ;  but  after  that  he  was  our  cham- 
pion pedestrian.  There  is  something  magical  in 
the  atmosphere  of  this  far-north  region,  when  to  its 
health-giving  properties  is  superadded  the  excite- 
ment afforded  by  the  pleasant  pastime  of  angling. 


CHAPTEE  XY. 


IN  CAMP THE    INDIAN   GAFFER THE  ADVANTAGES 

OF   PRESERVED   WATERS. 

Here,  or  in  some  such  devoted  solitude,  should  dwell  the 
Muse  and  compose  a  treatise  on  the  worship  of  the  Dryads.— 
[Thoreau. 


Blessed  silent  groves!  O  may  you  be 
Forever  mirth's  best  nursery! 

May  pure  contents 

Forever  pitch  their  tents 

Upon  these  downs,  these  meeds,  these  rocks,  these  mountains, 
And  peace  still  slumber  by  the  purling  fountains, 

Which  we  may  every  year    . 

Meet,  when  we  come  a-fishing  here. 

—  [Sir  Henry   Wotton. 


UR  first  camping  ground  was  twelve 
miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river 
and  combined  all  the  elements  of 
picturesqueness  and  grandeur — a 
verdant  plain  encircled   by  lofty 
mountains,  only  broken  by  a  cleft 
of  sufficient  breadth  to  give  egress 
to  the  crystal  river,  whose  leaping 
waters  filled  our  camp  with  per- 
petual melody.     We  reached  it,  as 
last  year,  by  canoes  which  awaited  our  coming, 
and   of  which  we  instantly  availed  ourselves  to 
reach  our  coveted  Mecca.     I  was  greatly  pleased 
14 


106  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

to  find  that  my  last  year's  guides  were  again  at 
my  service.  I  wished  no  better,  and  I  was 
nattered  by  their  salutation  and  their  assurance 
that  they  wished  to  render  service  to  no  more 
patient  angler.  No  one  of  the  party  had  reason 
to  murmur  at  the  men  assigned  him.  All  seemed 
equally  expert  with  paddle  and  setting  pole,  and 
all,  with  a  single  exception,  could  gaff  his  fish  at 
the  right  moment  and  with  mathematical  pre- 
cision. If  they  occasionally  missed,  and,  by  a 
false  stroke,  lost  their  prize,  it  is  only  what  some- 
times happens  to  the  best  and  wisest  in  every  de- 
partment of  life.  What  a  "  raree  show "  for  an 
admiring  world  would  that  man  be  who  had  never 
blundered !  Of  some  of  the  mistakes  made  in  gaf- 
fing, and  of  the  effect  of  these  mistakes  upon  the 
mild-tempered  gentlemen  who  were  the  victims  of 
them,  I  shall  have  something  to  say  hereafter  — 
only  remarking  now,  in  passing,  that  skill  in  gaffing 
is  considered  the  highest  accomplishment  of  an 
Indian  guide.  I  have  seen  feats  of  skill  by  gaffers 
which  were  marvelous  in  their  lightning-like  ra- 
pidity and  magical  dexterity.  The  Indian  is  at  no 
time  so  wholly  an  Indian  as  when,  with  flashing 
eye  and  distended  nostril  —  with  every  nerve  strung 
for  the  work  before  him,  and  with  attitude  as  fixed 
and  immovable  as  a  marble  statue  —  lie  is  await- 
ing his  opportunity  to  gaff  his  fish.  It  is  the  poise 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  107 

of  the  eagle  awaiting  the  auspicious  moment  to 
dash  upon  his  selected  victim;  the  crouching  of 
the  lion  ready  to  leap  upon  his  prey.  No  angler's 
gallery  is  perfect  without  a  picture  of  an  Indian 
gaffer  thus  ready  to  strike. 

Each  canoe  has  two  guides.  Both  are  necessary 
to  propel  the  frail  craft  over  the  impetuous  rapids 
which  are  met  with  in  every  salmon  river ;  and 
they  are  equally  necessary  in  guiding  the  canoe 
down  the  rapids,  which  are  generally  boiling  caul- 
drons, full  of  rocks  and  whirlpools  and  treacherous 
currents.  Running,  as  these  rapids  often  do,  ten 
or  fifteen  miles  an  hour,  contact  with  a  rock  is  full 
of  peril.  But  this  seldom  happens.  I  remember 
but  a  single  instance,  and  that  was  the  result  of 
overloading  rather  than  the  lack  of  skill  or  judg- 
ment in  the  canoemen. 

Two  hours  of  steady  pulling  brought  us  to  our 
camp,  where  we  found  several  fishers  who  had 
been  awaiting  our  coming  to  strike  their  tents  and 
leave  the  river.  They  had  had  good  sport,  but 
not  equal  to  that  of  last  year.  Why  \  was  a  ques- 
tion they  were  unable  to  answer.  Most  likely 
because  they  came  too  late  to  meet  the  first  run  of 
fish,  which  were  believed  to  have  passed  up  at  the 
full  of  the  spring  freshet,  when  successful  angling 
is  not  deemed  practicable,  and  when  even  tide- 
water fishing  with  nets  is  seldom  attempted.  This 
theory  was  partially  confirmed  by  the  fact  that 


108  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

those  who  had  gone  to  the  tipper  pools  had  no 
cause  of  complaint.  Ordinarily,  the  best  time  to 
"  whip  "  a  river  is  when  the  first  spring  freshet  is 
subsiding.  Then  the  fish  are  fresh  from  the  sea 
and  far  more  eager  and  muscular  than  after  a  long 
sojourn  in  fresh  water.  Except  upon  compulsion, 
no  one  should  defer  his  visit  to  a  salmon  river  later 
than  the  middle  of  June.  On  a  good  river  there 
will  be  tolerable  fishing  until  the  middle  of  August, 
but  the  cream  of  the  sport  is  only  available  on  this 
river  from  the  tenth  of  June  to  the  fourth  of  July. 
It  was  not  our  luck,  either  last  year  or  this,  to  be 
able  to  choose  our  time.  We  hope,  however,  to  do 
so  on  some  future  occasion.  We  shall  then  know 
whether  it  is  possible  to  experience  any  higher 
pleasure,  or  to  achieve  any  grander  successes,  than 
have  rendered  memorable  our  two  visits  to  the 
Cascapedia. 

As  is  the  manner  of  all  true  anglers,  our  unknown 
friends  gave  us  a  most  hearty  welcome.  Their 
spacious  board  was  loaded  with  every  coveted  deli- 
cacy, freshly  caught  and  artistically  cooked  salmon 
constituting,  of  course,  the  chief  and  most  palatable 
dish.  And  salmon  only  reveal  their  unapproachable 
delicacy  when  thus  served.  If  the  fastidious  gour- 
mand is  rendered  happy  by  such  stale  specimens 
of  the  delicious  iish  as  he  has  served  up  to  him  a 
thousand  miles  from  where  they  are  caught,  into 
what  spasms  of  ecstacy  would  he  be  thrown  by 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  109 

partaking  of  the  delicate  morsel  while  the  golden 
flakes  still  retain  their  full  and  luscious  flavor  1 
Such  golden  flakes  melted  upon  our  palates  on  this 
pleasant  occasion ;  and  if  no  sparkling  wines  were 
brought  forward  to  crown  the  feast,  we  found  a 
better  substitute  in  an  abundant  supply  of  excellent 
coffee,  far  more  delicious  to  our  taste  than  would 
have  been  the  fabled  "  nectar  of  the  gods." 

After  a  hasty  adieu  and  a  whole  volume  of  good 
wishes,  we  were  left  temporary  "  monarchs  of  all 
we  surveyed,"  and,  with  two  beside  —  Captain 
GRANT,  of  England,  and  Mr.  KINEAR,  of  St.  John 
—  the  sole  occupants  of  fifty  miles  of  as  splendid 
salmon  waters  as  ever  received  the  fly  of  a  jolly 
angler. 

Camp-life  in  pleasant  weather  on  trout  stream  or 
salmon  river,  with  agreeable  companions  and  pass- 
able -sport  is,  to  the  angler,  the  very  perfection  of 
enjoyment.  He  covets  nothing  so  much  as  these 
periodical  respites  from  rasping  care  and  social  con- 
ventionalities. They  are  full  of  sunshine  in  their 
realization,  and  they  remain  a  pleasant  memory 
forever. 

Our  first  camping  ground  was  all  that  heart 
could  wish  —  a  charming  valley,  encircled  by  an 
amphitheatre  of  mountains,  wood-clad  to  their 
very  summit,  with  the  river,  transparent  as  the 
atmosphere,  moving  in  graceful  undulations  to  the 
sea,  It  took  but  a  few  hours  to  pitch  our  tents, 


110  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLIKG. 

to  extemporise  a  dining  hall  and  kitchen,  and  to 
settle  down  to  the  solid  comfort  and  enjoyment 
coveted  by  those  whose  simple  tastes  lead  them  to 
these  quiet  places. 

There  are,  popularly,  erroneous  ideas  entertained 
of  the  comforts  or  discomforts  of  camp-life.  These 
ideas  have  been  for  the  most  part  derived  from  the 
real  or  imaginary  pictures  painted  by  novices  in 
wood-craft.  One  may  be  quite  as  comfortable  in 
a  bark  or  log  shanty  or  under  a  canvas  tent  as  in 
a  well  appointed  hostelry.  It  only  requires  a 
knowledge  of  what  is  essential  to  comfort  and  the 
experience  necessary  to  apply  this  knowledge  prac- 
tically. To  "rough  it"  does  not  necessarily  imply 
wet  feet,  damp  clothing,  a  hard  bed,  insufficient 
covering,  a  leaky  tent,  hard  tack  and  stale  bacon. 
These  are  all  available  to  those  who  prefer  them, 
and  the  chances  are  ten  to  one  that  you  will  have 
them  all  until  you  learn  that  none  of  them  are 
either  necessary  or  desirable.  If  you  cannot  pro- 
cure what  I  have  found  to  be  unprocurable  (water- 
proof leather  boots),  a  pair  of  thick  rubber  shoes, 
for  wet  days  and  damp  places,  will  keep  your  feet 
dry.  "With  a  rubber  coat  and  leggings,  except  in 
a  drenching  tempest,  you  need  wear  no  damp 
clothing.  A  piece  of  heavy  canvas,  with  open 
seams  through  which  to  pass  your  extemporised 
stretchers,  will  give  you  a  spring  bed,  which,  with 
aromatic  balsam  boughs  for  a  mattrass  and  plenty 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  Ill 

of  blankets  to  keep  you  warm,  makes  as  comfort- 
able a  couch  as  you  can  buy  of  the  upholsterer.  A 
leaky  tent  or  shanty  is  an  unnecessary  nuisance ; 
while,  by  using  a  little  forethought,  your  cuisine 
may  be  as  palatable  and  healthful  as  any  epicure 
could  desire.  It  all  depends  upon  one's  own  skill 
and  knowledge,  and  these,  like  all  wisdom,  are 
only  acquired  by  experience. 

Nor  to  attain  these  comforts  is  it  necessary  to 
render  yourself  ridiculous  by  transporting  a  cart- 
load of  luggage.  A  large  sack,  which  any  one  can 
shoulder,  will  hold  your  A  or  wall-tent,  your  bed- 
ding and  all  your  rough  garments.  A  hand  valise 
is  sufficient  for  your  "store  clothes."  Two  or 
three  moderate  sized  packages  will  cover  your 
necessary  provender  for  an  ordinary  trip,  and  your 
tackling  is  easily  portable.  A  Saratoga  trunk  on 
trout-stream  or  salmon  river  is  as  conclusive  as  a 
sonorous  bray  that  a  donkey  is  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Yet  these  are  sometimes  seen,  ordinarily 
accompanied  by  a  biped  decked  off  in  long  boots, 
velvet  pants  and  jacket,  a  jaunty  hat  bedizzened 
with  gaudy  flies,  and  a  body  belt  ornamented  with 
bowie  knife  and  pistol,  as  if  he  expected  at  every 
turn  to  encounter  herds  of  wild  cats  or  panthers, 
or  a  whole  tribe  of  blood-thirsty  Indians  anxious 
for  his  precious  scalp.  All  anglers  in  their  wan- 
derings have  encountered  such  comical  specimens 
of  cockney  sportsmen.  They  are  generally  harm- 


112          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

less,   however,  catching  but  few  fish  and  killing 
too  little  game  to  materially  affect  the  supply. 

It  is  the  attractive  feature  of  these  preserved 
waters  that  they  can  only  be  fished  by  those  hold- 
ing official  permits  to  do  so.  In  starting  for  a 
pool,  your  anticipations  of  sport  are  not  disturbed 
by  the  apprehension  that  it  may  have  already  been 
seized  and  held  by  some  "  earlier  bird  "  than  your- 
self. It  is  all  your  own,  to  make  the  most  of  how 
and  when  you  please.  This  conscious  security 
comports  with  the  leisurely  habits  of  the  true 
angler,  and  prevents  those  feelings  of  envy,  strife 
and  jealousy  which  are  too  often  excited  when  one 
finds  a  favorite  bit  of  water  swept  by  a  bevy  of 
bait-fishers  and  lashed  into  foam  by  their  whip-cord 
lines  and  heavy  sinkers  swung  out  from  "  larraping 
rods"  huge  enough  to  lift  a  leviathan.  Here 
you  pay  for  what  you  have,  and  you  are  sure  to 
have  what  you  pay  for.  No  sly  departures !  No 
lying  awake  all  night  to  "steal  the  march"  of 
your  neighbors  in  the  morning !  No  studied  decep- 
tion !  No  unseemly  racing  to  get  ahead  of  u  the 
other  fellows  ! "  Your  assigned  pool  waits  for  you, 
whether  the  fish  do  or  not ;  and  you  cast  without 
haste  or  fear  of  disturbance,  as  the  honored  guest 
takes  his  ease  in  his  inn.  How  many  weary  miles 
I  have  paddled  and  tramped  among  the  Adiron- 
dacks  to  get  out  of  the  reach  of  the  huge  army 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  113 

of  "  Murray's  fools,"  who  for  a  time  swarmed  that 
angler's  paradise,  with  no  more  appreciation  of 
the  art,  or  of  the  delectable  recreation  of  angling 
than  a  donkey  has  of  the  heavenly  harmonies.  I 
owe  to  them,  however,  the  pleasant  recollection  of 
many  weeks  of  delightful  solitude  and  repose 
amid  pathless  woods  and  unfrequented  lakes  and 
streamlets.  So  I  forgive  them  —  glad,  neverthe- 
less, to  be  able,  here,  upon  the  far-off  Cascapedia, 
to  fish  undisturbed,  and  to  feast  upon  the  magnifi- 
cent scenery  which  everywhere  meets  the  eye  and 
gladdens  the  spirit,  without  fear  of  molestation 
from  cockney  intruders.  This  assured  isolation 
during  the  hours  set  apart  for  angling  constitutes 
one  of  the  chief  charms  of  these  preserved  waters. 
"Yet"  (as  that  most  lovable  lover  of  nature, 
Thoreau,  says  )  "  I  would  not  insist  upon  any  one's 
trying  it  who  has  not  a  pretty  good  supply  of  in- 
ternal sunshine ;  otherwise  he  would  have,  I  judge, 
to  spend  too  much  of  his  time  in  fighting  with  his 
dark  humors.  To  live  alone  comfortably,  we  must 
have  that  self -comfort  which  rays  out  of  nature  — 
a  portion  of  it  at  least." 

Forest  solitudes,  away  off  upon  and  beyond  the 
verge  of  civilization,  have  an  irresistible  fascina- 
tion. To  be  alone  becomes  a  passion  with  some 
men.  There  are  to-day,  as  there  have  been  in  all 
the  past,  hundreds  of  hunters  and  trappers  in  the 
15 


114  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

wilderness  of  the  far  west  who  cannot  endure  con- 
tact with  their  fellow  men,  and  are  only  happy 
when  remote  from  all  human  habitations.  But 
this  exaggerated  love  of  isolation  —  of  perpetual 
separation  from  their  kind  —  is  no  proof  of  intel- 
lectual superiority  or  of  an  exalted  appreciation  of 
the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  nature  uncontaminated 
by  the  depravities  and  meannesses  of  a  selfish  civil- 
ization. Moral  or  esthetic  considerations  seldom 
enter  the  minds  of  these  "  mighty  hunters."  Their 
hermit-life  is  simply  proof  of  a  morbid  and  dis- 
torted condition  of  mind,  which  is  neither  to  be 
commended,  admired  nor  imitated.  It  would  be  as 
untruthful  and  as  unjust  to  associate  the  angler 
who  seeks,  temporarily,  for  repose  and  recreation, 
the  solitudes  of  the  forest,  with  these  uncouth,  un- 
kempt and  unlettered  trappers,  as  it  would  be  to 
proclaim  all  angling  debasing  because  professional 
"  pot-hunters,"  who  are  alike  indifferent  to  times 
and  seasons  and  the  processes  by  which  they 
achieve  results,  engage  in  it. 

Nor  must  it  be  inferred  that  isolation  is  the  fixed 
status  of  the  angler.  At  proper  times  and  seasons 
in  no  class  of  men  is  the  social  element  more  fully 
developed.  To  have  this  demonstrated  it  is  only 
necessary  to  visit  the  camp-fire  after  the  sports  of 
the  day  are  over.  John  Wilson's  "Nodes  Am- 
brosiana "  and  " Dies  Borealis"  are  no  mere  fie- 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING.  115 

tions.  His  unapproachable  dialogues  liave  their 
counterpart  under  many  another  canvas  in  our 
own  primitive  forests.  They  may  not  always  be 
marked  by  the  profound  philosophy,  rollicking 
humor,  tender  pathos,  or  glowing  imagery  which 
have  given  the  recorded  sayings  of  these  eminent 
anglers  a  foremost  place  among  the  classics  of  the 
century.  But  they  are  kindred  in  tone  and  spirit, 
and  often  approach  them  in  all  the  good  qualities 
which  will  render  them  the  delight  of  all  thought- 
ful men  of  all  the  ages. 

It  is  the  recollection  of  these  social  re-unions, 
participated  in  by  men  of  kindred  tastes  and  sym- 
pathies, who  have  sought  these  far-off  solitudes  to 
be  happy  in  their  own  simple  way,  quite  as  much 
as  the  strike  and  struggle  of  the  gamey  salmon, 
which  makes  the  memory  of  these  seasons  of  re- 
creation and  repose  "  a  joy  forever."  Those  who 
do  not  find  it  so  have  not  yet  imbibed  the  spirit 
of  the  Fathers,  nor  attained  unto  the  highest  possi- 
bilities of  the  gentle  art. 


CHAPTEK  XYI. 

A  PLEASANT   MOKNING THE   JUDGE5 S    FIKST    SALMON. 

'Neath  cloistered  boughs  each  floral  bell  that  swingeth, 

And  tolls  its  perfume  on  the  passing  air, 
Makes  Sabbath  in  the  field,  and  ever  ringeth 
A  call  to  prayer. 

—  [Horace  Smith, 

Give  me  mine  angle.     We'll  to  the  river  ;  there, 

My  music  playing  afar  off,  I  will  betray 

Tawny  finn'd  fishes  ;  my  bended  hook  shall  pierce 

Their  slimy  jaws  ;  and  as  I  draw  them  up, 

I'll  think  them  every  one  an  Antony, 

And  say,  "  Ah,  ha !  you're  caught." 

—  [Shakspeare. 

UK  first  morning  in  camp  was 
"cloudless  and  serene.  The  "cal- 
lar  mountain  air"  was  pure  and 
bracing.  The  gentle  western 
breeze  came  down  from  the  hills 
freighted  with  the  perfume  of  a 
million  flowers  and  the  melody 
of  a  thousand  songsters,  calling 
up  the  beautiful  apostrophe  of 
the  psalmist :  "  Praise  waiteth 
for  Thee,  O  God,  in  Zion ;  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes 
unto  the  hills  from  whence  cometh  my  help ;  my 
help  cometh  from  the  Lord,  which  made  heaven 
and  earth."  The  leaves,  besprinkled  with  "the 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  117 

dew  of  the  morning,"  sparkled  like  diamonds  in 
the  sunlight,  while  the  river  murmured  out  its 
perpetual  anthem  as  it  moved  along  its  cleft  path- 
way to  the  sea.  Here  and  there,  on  the  high-up 
summits  of  the  hills  which  encircled  the  beautiful 
valley  in  which  we  had  pitched  our  tents,  the  morn- 
ing mist,  transparent  as  a  bridal  veil,  hung  in  mid- 
air like  a  benediction,  while  every  forest  tree  and 
flowering  shrub  swayed  to  and  fro  like  a  waving 
censer  before  the  grand  altar  of  nature. 

And  in  due  time,  as  if  to  fill  up  the  measure  of 
our  devout  gratitude  to  a  kind  Providence  for  hav- 
ing permitted  us  to  "  cast  our  lines  in  such  pleasant 
places,"  there  came  up  from  the  camp-fire  the  odor 
of  broiled  salmon,  mingled  with  the  aroma  of 
slowly  distilling  Mocha,  whetting  the  already  keen 
appetite  for  the  morning  meal  in  rapid  prepara- 
tion. And  when  served,  "there  was  silence  for 
the  space  of  half  an  hour,"  when  the  Judge  held 
up  his  crutch  in  speechless  thanksgiving  for  such 
a  luscious  repast  amid  such  gorgeous  surroundings. 

The  first  business  in  order  was  the  allotment  of 
pools.  There  are  three  within  easy  distance  of  the 
camp.  Each  usually  affords  ample  sport,  but  one 
of  them  is  more  coveted  than  the  others  because 
it  uniformly  abounds  in  larger  fish.  As  the  Judge 
had  never  taken  a  salmon,  this  pool  was  awarded 
him  by  unanimous  assent — a  striking  illustration  of 


118  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

the  self-sacrificing  courtesy  which  distinguishes  all 
true  disciples  of  the  gentle  art.  For,  be  it  under- 
stood, it  is  no  mean  proof  of  magnanimity  to  volun- 
tarily surrender  to  another  the  best  place  to  fish. 
It  requires  more  grace  than  to  give  up  a  "sure 
thing  "  in  Wall  street.  This  latter  sacrifice  goes  no 
deeper  than  the  pocket;  the  former  touches  the 
core  of  your  highest  enjoyment.  Whoever  makes 
this  sacrifice  has  the  spirit  of  the  good  Samaritan. 
All  anglers  may  not  be  thus  magnanimous,  and 
those  who  are  do  not  always  find  their  magna- 
nimity appreciated.  But  such  is  the  experience  of 
all  doers  of  good  deeds.  Charitable  men,  and  men 
of  kindly  sympathies,  are  as  often  accused  of  osten- 
tation as  commended  for  benevolence.  No  matter 
if  they  do  try  to  "  do  good  by  stealth  and  blush  to 
find  it  fame,"  there  are  critics  who  will  pronounce 
their  modesty  hypocrisy,  and  their  blushes  the 
flush  of  anger  that  their  charities  are  not  pro- 
claimed from  the  house-top.  Not  so  the  Judge. 
He  appreciated  the  well-meant  compliment,  and 
gave  due  expression  to  the  feeling  of  gratitude 
which  this  "  offering  of  friendship  "  excited  in  his 
"  manly  bosom." 

The  issue  of  this  little  bit  of  courtesy  was  much 
more  satisfactory  than  a  similar  instance  of  pisca- 
torial self-sacrifice  which  I  remember.  It  occurred 
in  the  "  North  Woods,"  on  one  of  the  inlets  which 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  119 

connect  the  Fulton  chain  of  lakes.  I  was  having 
excellent  sport;  almost  every  cast  met  with  a 
response,  and  my  creel  was  becoming  unpleasantly 
weighty  with  its  precious  burden.  Just  as  I  had 
reached  the  margin  of  a  favorite  pool  from  which 
I  had  never  failed  to  beguile  a  half  dozen  large 
fish,  I  observed  in  the  near  distance  a  clever  fel- 
low who  was  passionately  fond  of  the  sport,  but 
who,  having  no  skill,  had  no  "  luck."  "  I  don't 
understand  it,"  was  his  stereotyped  bewailment. 
And  just  here  was  his  trouble ;  he  did  not  "  under- 
stand it."  He  persisted  in  whipping  the  stream 
with  a  line  of  four-fold  the  proper  dimensions,  and 
made  his  casts  with  a  rod  equally  out  of  propor- 
tion. I,  however,  liked  his  pluck  and  patience, 
and  seeing  my  opportunity  to  do  him  a  favor,  I 
invited  him  to  take  my  place  at  the  pool  into 
which  I  was  about  to  cast.  Although  this  hap- 
pened twenty  years  ago  I  have  not  to  this  day 
been  quite  able  to  decide  whether  (remembering 
the  sequel)  I  did  a  generous  or  a  foolish  thing  in 
thus  surrendering  my  prerogative  to  one  who,  how- 
ever grateful,  proved  himself  illy  qualified  to  make 
the  best  possible  use  of  his  opportunity.  His  huge 
sinker  fell  into  the  water  with  a  splash,  carrying 
with  it  a  number-nine  hook  covered  with  a  full 
half  ounce  of  wriggling  worms,  when  it  was  at 
once  seized  by  a  three-pound  trout,  which  in  an- 


120  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

other  instant  was  dangling  from  the  limb  of  a 
neighboring  tree  into  which  he  had  been  elevated 
by  the  excited  angler.  And  there  he  Imng  for 
twenty  minutes  from  an  inextricably  tangled  line, 
which  was  only  recovered,  with  what  depended 
from  it,  after  such  turbulence  as  to  render  any 
further  angling  in  that  pool  impracticable  for  the 
day.  But  in  spite  of  his  awkwardness  he  saved 
his  trout,  was  made  happy  by  his  success,  and  over- 
whelmed me  with  thanks  for  my  courtesy. 

The  Judge  may  not  have  been  more  grateful, 
but  he  entered  upon  his  work  with  more  grace  and 
skill.  His  first  casts  were  made  with  becoming 
caution,  as  if  feeling  his  way  for  the  open  joints 
in  the  harness  of  a  crafty  witness.  He  was  too 
wise  an  angler  to  drop  his  fly  into  the  centre  of  the 
pool  abruptly.  Like  a  wary  General,  he  worked 
his  way  to  the  heart  of  the  citadel  by  "  gradual 
approaches."  A  novice  would  have  charged  him 
with  undue  timidity,  just  as  impatient  lookers  on 
sometimes  accused  him  of  irrelevancy  when  cau- 
tiously drawing  the  net  of  his  irresistible  logic 
around  his  bewildered  victim  in  the  witness  box 
during  that  famous  Brooklyn  combat  of  intellect- 
ual giants.  He  knew  what  he  was  about  then ;  he 
knows  what  he  is  about  now.  He  was  too  wise  a 
lawyer  to  thwart  himself  by  inordinate  haste  ;  and 
he  is  too  skillful  an  angler  to  hazard  success  by 
undue  precipitancy.  Foot  by  foot  his  casts  were 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  121 

lengthened  and  swept  gracefully  across  the  current 
of  the  pool.  Foot  by  foot  he  worked  his  way  to 
the  objective  point,  where  rested  what  he  coveted 
more  than  the  verdict  of  judge  or  jury.  And  now, 
at  last,  the  fly  drops  gently  upon  the  glistening 
surface  of  the  dark  water,  just  at  the  point  desired, 
when  there  followed  a  rush  and  strike,  and  a 
momentary  pause,  as  if  fish  and  fisher  were  alike 
astounded,  and  then  click,  whiz,  whir-r-r  went  the 
reel,  as  if  harnessed  to  a  lightning  train  with  a 
thunderbolt  for  a  locomotive.  Away  went  the  fish 
with  two  hundred  feet  of  line,  but  stopping  at 
that  distance  as  suddenly  as  if  arrested  by  a  pe- 
remptory order  of  the  court.  Then  came  the  tug 
of  war ;  first  to  hold  him  —  that  required  muscle ; 
then  to  bear  with  him  while  he  sulked  —  that 
required  patience.  The  Judge  had  both,  and  both 
were  brought  into  skilful  requisition.  For  ten 
minutes  not  a  fin  stirred;  but  the  taut  line,  as 
it  resisted  the  combined  pressure  of  the  current 
and  the  fish,  thrummed  like  an  seolian  harp,  and 
made  every  nerve  tingle  with  delight.  As  became 
the  watchful  angler  that  he  is,  the  eyes  of  the 
Judge  were  immovably  fixed  upon  his  line  as  it 
stretched  out  straight  before  him.  He  believed 
the  fish  near  the  opposite  bank  in  a  direct  line  with 
his  rod,  and  he  was  looking  intently  for  some  sign 
of  life  from  the  spot  where  he  supposed  his  fish 

16 


122  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

was  sulking,  when  click !  click !  whiz-z-z,  again 
went  the  reel,  and  a  huge  fish  leaped  his  whole 
length  out  of  water  a  hundred  feet  above  him. 
"  Hello,"  said  the  Judge,  "  there's  another  fellow ! " 
"No,  that's  your  fish,"  said  the  Indian  gaffer. 
u  Blazes !  you  don't  say  ?  What's  he  doing  there  ? 
He's  not  within  a  hundred  feet  of  my  line."  "  It's 
your  fish,  sir.  The  swift  current  makes  your  line 
bend  like  the  new  moon."  And  this  was  the  fact ; 
but  the  illusion  was  so  perfect  that  it  required 
several  like  experiences  to  convince  him  that  his 
Indian  gaffer  was  not  "  fooling  him  "  upon  that 
occasion. 

After  an  hour's  struggle,  and  with  a  skill  and 
judgment  which  excited  the  admiration  of  all  who 
witnessed  the  contest,  the  fish  was  killed  and  cap- 
tured. When  he  kicked  the  beam  at  the  twenty 
eight  pound  notch,  the  Judge  was  a  proud  and  a 
happy  man.  There  are  many  things  he  will  for- 
get as  old  Time  weaves  silver  threads  amid  his 
auburn  locks,  but  he  will  never  forget  his  astonish- 
ment when  that  fish  showed  himself  one  hundred 
feet  from  the  point  where  he  was  intently  watch- 
ing him. 

The  next  day  DUN  was  awarded  the  Judge's  pool 
and  had  his  usual  luck  —  making  a  larger  score 
than  any  of  us,  and  breaking  more  rods ;  not 
because  he  had  less  general  skill,  but  because  he 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  123 

could  not  receive  a  challenge  from  a  fish  without 
returning  an  impetuous  "  strike  "  on  the  instant. 
One  may  "  strike "  too  soon  as  well  as  too  late. 
In  angling,  as  in  everything  else,  there  is  a  "  happy 
mean" — just  the  right  mode  and  moment  to 
strike  your  fish  without  imperilling  your  tackling 
or  tearing  the  hook  from  his  mouth.  To  invari- 
ably compass  this  right  moment  requires  steadier 
nerve,  greater  forbearance  and  a  nicer  appreciation 
of  time  and  opportunity  than  falls  to  the  lot  of 
most  anglers.  A  few  have  the  gift ;  but  it  only 
comes  to  old  trout  fishers  after  much  practice  and 
many  discomfitures. 

Our  friend  had  been  casting  half  an  hour  at  "  a 
gay  gambolier  "  whose  special  vocation  seemed  to 
be  to  leap  at  nothing  and  keep  just  a  tail's  breadth 
from  the  lure  sent  to  him.  His  disportings  proved 
his  agility  but  were  provokingly  tantalizing ;  and 
DUN  was  just  ready  to  give  him  up  as  "  a  hopeless 
case,"  when  he  made  a  dash  for  the  fly  and  was 
astonished  to  find  himself  hooked.  With  a  rush 
and  a  leap  which  eclipsed  all  his  previous  demon- 
strations, he  started  for  the  opposite  shore  as  if  in 
a  hurry  to  deliver  some  message  he  had  forgotten. 
It  was  just  the  last  place  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  pool  one  cared  to  have  his  fish  take  to,  for  it 
was  full  of  jagged  rocks  and  hidden  bowlders. 
Aware  of  this,  DUN  instantly  did  his  best  to  bring 


124  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

him  back  into  open  water.  But  after  a  few  des- 
perate tugs,  he  was  compelled,  for  the  time,  to  give 
up  the  effort  and  permit  him  to  sulk  —  preserving, 
however,  a  taut  line,  measured  with  mathematical 
nicety,  upon  the  stubborn  brute.  Salmon  will 
sometimes  sulk  thus  for  hours,  in  seeming  disregard 
and  contempt  of  any  pressure  you  dare  bring  upon 
them.  For  more  than  thirty  minutes  DUN  sat 

"  Like  Patience  on  a  monument,  smiling  at  Grief," 

when  he  deemed  it  high  time  to  assume  the  aggres- 
sive. So  he  ordered  his  canoemen  to  paddle  cau- 
tiously toward  the  "  objective  point,"  while  he 
reeled  up  his  two  hundred  feet  of  taut  line  until 
every  muscle  ached  with  the  pressure.  He  had 
reached  within  fifty  feet  of  his  leader,  but  not  a 
tail  wagged  ;  thirty  feet,  but  nothing  was  felt  but 
the  steady  tension  of  the  quivering  line  ;  ten  feet, 
the  same.  All  was  as  still  and  motionless  as  the 
old  granite  bowlder  which  looked  down  upon  the 
dark  waters  amid  whose  eddying  currents  leader 
and  fly  were  hidden  from  vision.  Angler  and 
gaffer  were  alike  perplexed.  So  near  a  fish  and 
no  sign  of  life !  Nothing  like  it  had  passed  into 
the  annals  of  angling.  "  Slide  your  paddle  down 
cautiously  and  start  him,"  said  DUN.  Down  slid 
the  paddle,  but  nothing  came  of  it.  "  Try  again  ; 
but  take  care  that  he  doesn't  rush  under  the  canoe." 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  125 

Down  again  went  the  paddle,  when,  mystery  of 
mysteries !  it  struck,  not  a  salmon,  but  the  rock 
around  which  the  salmon  had  twisted  the  leader, 
broken  loose  from  the  fly  and  so  escaped,  a  wiser 
if  not  a  better  fish,  quite  prepared  to  resume  his 
game  of  leap-frog  long  before  his  disappointed 
captor  could  reel  in  the  fifty  ton  bowlder  at  which 
he  had  been  tugging  lustily  for  more  than  thirty 
minutes  ! 

Our  conversation  in  camp  was  of  rather  a  frivo- 
lous character  that  evening.  We  were  afraid  to 
introduce  any  weighty  subject  lest  our  friend  should 
interpret  it  as  a  personal  reflection  ! 


CHAPTER  XYIL 


DIFFERENCE  IN  FISH GAFFING    SALMON THE 

REEL-CLICK. 

Doubt  not,  sir,  but  that  Angling  is  an  art,  and  an  art  worth 
your  learning  :  the  question  is,  rather,  whether  you  be  capable 
of  learning  it. — [Sir  Izaak  Walton. 


one  sense,  all  salmon,  like  all 
men,  are  alike  :  but  like  all  men, 
also,  they  are  very  unlike  in  be- 
havior under  given  circumstances. 
I  once  brought  a  fifteen-pound 
salmon  to  gaff  in  ten  minutes, 
and  I  have  had  a  two  hours' 
struggle  with  others  of  no  greater 
weight;  just  as  some  men  suc- 
cumb when  so  much  as  a  shadow 
of  adversity  crosses  their  pathway,  while  others 
fight  on  so  long  as  a  peg  remains  to  hang  a  hope 
upon.  The  former  are  the  negatives  of  the  race, 
only  useful  in  swelling  the  numerals  of  a  census 
table.  The  latter  not  only  "conquer  fate"  by 
their  pluck  and  energy,  but  are  the  architects  of 
towns,  cities,  states  and  empires.  It  is  only  when 
"  Greek  meets  Greek  "  that  there  "  comes  the  tug 
of  war,"  and  it  is  only  when  the  angler  strikes  a 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING.  127 

fighting  salmon  that  he  properly  appreciates  their 
muscular  energy  and  great  endurance. 

It  is  not  always  possible  to  give  a  reason  for  the 
difference  in  the  play  of  different  fish  of  the  same 
species.  Every  one  has  his  theory.  One  says  it  is 
in  the  sex.  Another,  that  it  depends  upon  their 
recent  or  remote  advent  into  fresh  water,  and 
others  upon  where  the  fish  is  hooked.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly true  that,  as  a  rule,  there  is  more  game 
in  the  male  than  in  the  female  salmon,  and  that 
fish  fresh  from  the  ocean  are  the  most  muscular  and 
ferocious.  But  I  have  had  equal  sport  with  fish 
of  either  sex,  and  have  found  as  tough  customers 
fifty  miles  from  the  sea  as  in  close  proximity  to  it. 
The  difference,  I  fancy,  depends  upon  how  and 
where  they  are  hooked.  A  barb  through  the 
tongue  of  a  salmon  is  like  a  curb  on  the  jaws  of  a 
horse  ;  he  may  have  the  disposition  to  run,  but  he 
doesn't  fancy  the  unpleasant  sensation  which  fol- 
lows his  attempt  to  do  so.  Another  reason  is,  the 
seeming  dull  perception  of  some  fish.  Like  some 
men,  it  takes  them  a  good  while  to  get  over  their 
astonishment  at  finding  something  wrong,  and 
before  they  really  comprehend  the  situation,  they 
lose  their  advantage  and  are  gaffed. 

I  had  a  very  interesting  illustration  of  this  one 
day.  I  was  fishing  at  a  point  where  counter  cur- 
rents met,  and  where,  consequently,  it  was  difficult 


128  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

to  keep  out  a  straight  line  without  constant  cast- 
ing. Becoming  weary  with  this  sort  of  perpetual 
motion,  I  allowed  my  line  to  slacken  and  my  fly  to 
perambulate  at  its  own  sweet  will.  While  they 
were  thus  floating  in  a  circle,  the  fly  out  of  sight, 
I  felt  a  slight  tug  and  began  to  reel  up  leisurely,, 
annoyed  that  my  lure  had,  as  I  supposed,  been 
taken  by  a  trout.  Every  movement,  for  half  a. 
minute,  seemed  to  confirm  this  impression,  and  I 
had  stopped  reeling  to  give  expression  to  my  dis- 
appointment, when  the  fish  started  in  gallant 
salmon  style,  leaped  his  full  length  out  of  water, 
and  gave  me  all  I  could  do  for  three  hours  and 
twenty  minutes  before  he  was  brought  to  gaff,  and 
then  he  was  only  struck  by  a  chance  blow  as  he 
was  rushing,  in  full  life,  past  my  canoe  in  swift 
water.  What  I  supposed,  at  first,  to  be  merely  a 
two  or  three-pound  trout  proved  to  be  a  twenty- 
seven-pound  salmon.  If  I  had  been  in  shoal 
water  when  I  first  reeled  him  up  to  within  twenty 
feet  of  my  canoe,  I  might  have  ended  his  career  in 
ten  minutes.  The  hook  had  struck  him  at  some 
callous  point,  and  he  followed  the  gentle  lead  I 
gave  him  without  sense  of  pain  or  danger,  and 
only  made  a  dash  when  he  saw  the  canoe  with  its 
threatening  surroundings. 

In   gaffing  this  fish  while  on  the  run  in  swift 
water,  my  Indian  guide  proved  himself  an  expert 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  129 

in  the  most  difficult  department  of  the  art.  The 
expression  of  my  surprise  and  admiration  made 
him  a  happy  Indian.  He  knew  he  had  done 
something  which  deserved  commendation,  and  it 
pleased  him  to  find  that  it  was  observed.  In  our 
every  day  life  we  are  too  sparing  of  our  compli- 
ments. When  any  one  within  the  circle  of  our 
acquaintance  does  well  —  whether  hod-carrier  or 
Senator,  crossing-sweeper  or  orator  —  it  does  no 
harm  to  let  him  know  that  his  well-doing  is  recog- 
nized and  appreciated.  Judicious  commendation 
is  a  more  potent  stimulant  than  we  are  apt  to 
think.  But  for  it,  many  who  have  come  to  excel 
in  their  several  vocations  would  have  grown  up 
into  the  merest  mediocrity,  while  for  lack  of  it, 
multitudes  have  ceased  to  struggle,  because  they 
have  received  no  token  that  their  aspirations  were 
approved.  A  good  word,  where  deserved,  costs 
nothing,  but  it  is  often  magical  in  its  effects.  My 
simple  "  Bravo  !  no  Indian  on  the  Cascapedia  could 
have  done  better,"  was  more  to  my  guide  than  are 
the  plaudits  of  the  multitude  to  the  orator  on  the 
rostrum.  I  never  afterward  lost  a  fish  from  want 
of  diligence  on  the  part  of  my  gaffer. 

But  others  did.  DUN  had  hooked  a  very  large 
fish  and  had  fought  him  bravely  for  two  hours  — 
bringing  him  frequently  within  the  reach  of  his 
gaffer,  and  as  frequently  was  obliged  to  give  him 

IT 


130  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

line  to  prevent  him  from  breaking  off  in  his  fright 
when  foully  struck  at.  Finally  the  gaffer  reached 
him,  struck  out  wildly,  scratched  the  fish  and 
snapped  the  leader  !  The  silence  which  followed 
was  a  grand  exhibition  of  fortitude  and  forbear- 
ance. It  may  have  been  that  my  friend  could  find 
no  words  suitable  to  the  occasion  ;  but  I  preferred 
to  attribute  the  Christian-like  grace  with  which 
he  succumbed  to  the  inevitable,  to  the  possession 
of  that  rare  virtue  commended  by  the  Scripture : 
"  Greater  is  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that 
taketh  a  city."  That  gaffer  gaffed  no  more  for 
DUN. 

A  like  misfortune  happened  to  General  ARTHUR 
not  long  afterward,  under  even  more  provoking 
circumstances.  He  had  hooked  his  fish,  played 
him  with  consummate  skill  and  brought  him 
several  times  to  the  very  feet  of  his  gaffer  —  the 
last  time  seemingly  a  dead  fish  and  into  water  not 
twelve  inches  deep.  But  a  spell  seemed  to  be  on 
the  poor  Indian.  He  struck  once,  twice,  thrice, 
without  effect  —  except  upon  the  leader,  which  he 
broke.  But  even  then  the  fish  did  not  stir,  neither 
did  the  gaffer.  The  fish  seemed  bewildered,  as 
the  gaffer  certainly  was,  until  the  General  quietly 
intimated  that  as  the  fish  was  waiting  to  be  gaffed 
it  would  be  well  to  gratify  him ;  when  the  Indian 
seemed  to  comprehend  the  situation,  and  pro- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  131 

ceeded  to  do  what,  if  he  had  attempted  two  seconds 
sooner,  would  have  been  a  success.  But  before 
the  gaff  fell  where  the  fish  was  he  wasn't  there, 
and  thirty-five  pounds  of  as  fine  salmon  as  ever 
wagged  a  tail  floated  off  with  the  current,  in  all 
probability  to  die  "  unwept,  unhonored  and  un- 
sung." Expletives,  like  notes  in  music,  are  mod- 
ulated to  meet  the  intensity  of  the  emotions.  The 
General's  expletive  was  pitched  on  the  upper  regis- 
ter, and  the  gaffer  would  have  been  pitched  into 
the  Cascapedia  if  he  hadn't  looked  as  if  that  was 
just  what  he  expected.  The  explanation  was  that 
the  water  was  not  deep  enough  to  permit  the  gaff- 
hook  to  go  under  the  fish.  The  consequence  was 
it  glanced  along  its  side  and  back,  struck  the  leader, 
which  it  broke,  and  gave  the  fish  free  rein.  And 
yet  this  mishap  occurred  to  one  of  the  most  skill- 
ful and  careful  gaffers  on  the  river.  The  poor 
fellow  hung  his  head  for  a  week,  but  it  was  the  last 
fish  he  lost. 

If  it  requires  skill  to  always  gaff  a  fish,  it  re- 
quires equal  skill  to  always  properly  respond  to  a 
fish  which  leaps  while  the  angler  is  playing  him. 
To  elevate  your  rod  as  the  fish  leaps,  and  to  hold 
it  at  the  attained  elevation  as  he  goes  down,  is  to 
almost  inevitably  lose  him.  All  that  is  necessary 
to  be  done  at  this  supremely  exciting  moment,  is 
to  let  the  tip  of  the  rod  descend  with  the  fish. 


132  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

You  thus  prevent  the  strain  and  snap  which  must 
otherwise  ensue.  This  movement  of  the  rod  at  the 
right  instant,  under  such  circumstances,  is  the 
most  difficult  lesson  to  learn  in  the  whole  art  of 
angling.  No  incident  in  the  sport  is  more  excit- 
ing than  these  salmon  leaps.  If  you  do  not  then 
preserve  your  wits  you  will  most  certainly  lose 
your  salmon.  The  lesson  I  learned  in  maple  pool 
(of  which  anon)  in  this  direction,  was  a  lesson 
which  I  had  to  learn  sooner  or  later ;  but  the 
recollection  of  it  will  be  a  grief  forever. 

What  the  long-roll  is  to  the  soldier  the  reel- 
click  is  to  the  angler.  It  is  the  call  to  battle  and 
stirs  the  blood  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet. 

No  salmon  ever  takes  the  hook  when  alarmed. 
He  may  come  to  it  with  a  rush,  but  with  his  mo- 
tion so  exactly  graduated  as  to  have  but  little  mo- 
mentum after  the  lure  is  reached  —  like  a  jumper 
making  for  the  goal.  The  result  is  that  on  the 
very  instant  of  striking  the  reel  seldom  gives  out 
more  than  a  click  or  two,  unless  the  angler  strikes 
simultaneously  —  which  most  anglers  do  ;  whether 
wisely  or  not,  is  a  problem  yet  unsolved  by  the 
masters  of  the  art.  The  moment,  however,  the 
fish  feels  the  sting  of  the  hook  he  shoots  off  with 
a  rush,  causing,  by  his  rapid  movement,  that  whiz 
and  whir-r  which,  to  the  angler,  is  the  most  thrill- 
ing music  that  ever  falls  upon  his  ear.  The  delib- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  133 

erate  click,  click,  which  succeeds  the  strike,  is  the 
measured  prelude  to  the  grand  chorus  which  fol- 
lows when  the  astonished  fish  enters  upon  his  mad 
career.  These  sounds  alternate  through  the  pro- 
tracted struggle ;  now  a  single  click,  as  the  fish 
shakes  his  head  in  his  sulking  moments,  and  now 
a  whiz  and  whir-r-r,  as  he  rushes  and  leaps  in  his 
desperate  efforts  to  free  himself  from  the  stinging 
barb  which  holds  him.  When  a  determined  fish 
is  thus  hooked,  the  same  stirring  music  is  repeated 
a  hundred  times,  until,  finally,  the  poor  fellow  is 
only  able  to  give  spasmodic  tugs,  moving  the  line 
but  the  length  of  a  single  cog,  the  reel  responding 
by  slow  and  measured  clicks  like  the  tap  of  a 
muffled  drum  beating 

"  Funeral  marches  to  the  grave." 

But  these  death-tugs  are  full  of  peril.  More 
fish  "  tear  out "  then  than  at  any  other  moment 
of  the  struggle.  To  prevent  such  a  catastrophe 
requires  the  most  watchful  and  delicate  manipula- 
tion. Safety  lies  in  a  cautious  easing  off  of  the 
pressure  on  the  line  with  every  movement  of  the 
fish,  being  careful,  however,  that  no  slack  is  allow- 
ed to  render  his  vicious  wrench  effective  and  fatal. 
To  see  an  angler  at  the  moment  when  a  mammoth 
salmon  thus  escapes  —  his  rod  at  the  perpendicu- 
lar, his  line  dangling  loosely  in  the  breeze,  his 
mouth  wide  open,  and  his  muscles  limp  as  a  sea- 


134          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

weed  —  is  to  see  a  comical  embodiment  of  disgust, 
astonishment  and  despair.  His  bewailment  and 
self-upbraidings  find  expression  in  the  unspoken 
thought :  "  With  a  little  more  care  how  different 
'  it  might  have  been.' 3:  All  salmon  fishers  have 
passed  through  this  experience  and  understand  it. 
No  others  can,  however  graphically  described. 
Did  not  the  poet  have  this  picture  in  his  mind 
when  he  wrote : 

Then  she  took  up  her  burden  of  life  again, 

Saying  only:  "  It  might  have  been." 

God  pity  them  both  and  pity  us  all 

Who  vainly  the  dreams  of  our  youth  recall ; 

For  of  all  the  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 

The  saddest  are  these:   "  It  might  have  been." 

There  is  but  one  sound  in  nature,  animate  or 
inanimate,  which  at  all  resembles  the  whir  of  a 
reel  when  in  full  play  —  the  rattling  trill  of  a  king- 
fisher when  on  the  wing.  It  is  a  singular  coinci- 
dence that  the  music  of  the  best  angler  known  to 
ornithology  finds  its  most  perfect  counterpart 
in  that  which  man  finds  indispensable  to  his 
successful  pursuit  of  a  pastime  that  constitutes  its 
life-long  vocation.  This  bird  most  abounds  on 
swift-running  waters.  They  are  in  great  numbers 
on  the  Cascapedia,  and  more  than  once  my  reel 
and  this  feathered  angler  have  joined  in  a  duet,  to 
my  great  amusement  and  delight.  They  were  in 
as  perfect  accord  as  if  brought  into  concert  pitch 
by  the  hand  of  the  same  master. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TROUT    FISHING DO     FISH     HEAR  ? A    MERRY 

MAKING. 

I  love  such  mirth  as  does  not  make  friends  ashamed  to 
look  upon  one  another  next  morning. — [Sir  Izaak  Walton. 


ALMON  fishing  is  confessedly  the 
highest  department  in  the  school 
of  angling.  With  very  rare  ex- 
ceptions, the  tact  and  skill  neces- 
sary for  its  successful  practice  is 
only  acquired  by  long  experience 
in  the  minor  branches  of  the  art, 
first,  in  early  youth,  with  bait,  for 
chub,  perch  and  sunfish ;  next,  in 
the  transition  state,  with  troll,  for 
bass,  pickerel  and  muscalonge ;  and  lastly,  when 
the  mind  takes  in  the  exciting  realities  and  poetic 
possibilities  of  the  art,  with  fly,  in  streamlet,  river 
and  lake.  It  is  not  until  after  all  is  attained  that 
is  attainable  in  trout  waters  that  salmon  are  sighed 
for,  and  only  very  few  who  thus  sigh  are  ever  able 
to  have  their  longings  gratified.  But  those  whose 
experience  has  been  limited  to  bait  or  troll  seldom 
aspire  to  anything  beyond  the  pleasant  amusement 


136  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

which  these  primitive  modes  of  angling  afford 
them.  Having  never  cast  a  fly  they  have  no  con- 
ception of  the  superiority  of  that  mode  of  angling 
over  all  others,  and  so  soon  weary  of  a  pastime 
which,  from  its  sameness  and  tameness,  fails  to 
attract  when  something  more  than  mere  muscular 
exercise  or  physical  excitement  is  required  to  hold 
its  votaries.  A  gray-haired  bait-fisher  is  very  rare, 
while  the  passion  for  fly-casting,  whether  for  trout 
or  salmon,  grows  by  what  it  feeds  upon,  and  con- 
tinues a  source  of  the  highest  pleasure  even  after 
the  grasshopper  becomes  a  burden.  But  this  is  not 
strange ;  for  there  is  as  much  difference  between 
these  extremes  of  the  art  as  there  is  between  the 
harsh  music  of  a  hurdy-gurdy  and  the  divine  har- 
mony of  the  violin. 

There  is,  however,  such  a  similarity  between 
trout  and  salmon  fishing  that  pleasure  can  be  found 
in  either  by  the  expert  in  both.  And  as  trout 
usually  abound  in  salmon  waters,  they  are  often 
fished  for  as  a  rest  from  the  heavy  work  involved 
in  the  capture  of  salmon. 

Judge  FULLERTON  had  been  familiar  with  trout 
streams  from  his  youth  up.  There  are  few  brooks 
or  rivers  where  trout  "  most  do  congregate,"  from 
Maine  to  New  Brunswick,  in  which  he  has  not 
"  slain  his  thousands."  I  was  not  surprised,  there- 
fore, to  find  him  very  early  hankering  after  a  day's 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  137 

hunt  for  trout.  Nor  was  I  any  more  surprised  to 
find  him  returning  to  camp  long  before  half  the 
day  was  over,  with  thirty-five  pounds  of  splendid 
fish,  ranging  from  half  a  pound  to  three  pounds  in 
weight.  Subsequently  he  met  with  even  greater 
success  —  once  taking  forty -five  pounds  during  a 
short  afternoon.  As  an  experiment,  I  myself  caught 
sixteen  large  trout  in  thirty  minutes,  with  an  eight- 
ounce  rod,  without  a  landing  net.  It  was  unsports- 
manlike sport.  My  only  excuse  was  to  see  what 
could  be  done  in  these  waters ;  and  as  the  fish  could 
all  be  put  to  good  use,  there  was  no  waste  and  con- 
sequently no  upbraidings  of  conscience. 

The  trout  in  the  Cascapedia,  and,  indeed,  in  all 
these  salmon  rivers,  are  mostly  sea  trout,  running 
up  the  rivers  every  season,  like  salmon,  to  spawn. 
When  they  leave  the  salt  water,  their  spots  have 
scarcely  the  slightest  tinge  of  crimson.  Later,  they 
assume  a  somewhat  brighter  hue ;  but  they  never 
attain  the  beautiful  brilliancy  of  the  brook-trout  in 
our  home  streams.  Nor,  as  a  rule,  do  they  rise  as 
sprightly  to  the  fly.  Indeed,  like  salmon,  they 
usually  strike  without  projecting  themselves  so 
much  as  their  head's  length  above  the  surface.  But 
they  are  strong,  and  as  they  run  much  larger  than 
the  average  brook-trout  in  any  of  our  home  waters 
(save,  perhaps,  the  Rangely  lakes),  they  afford 
splendid  play,  and  often  draw  the  angler  away 

18 


138  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

from  the  more  kingly  but  far  more  laborious  sport 
which  salmon  afford. 

There  are  in  these  waters  brook  as  well  as  sea- 
trout,  but  they  are  found  mostly  in  or  near  the 
mouths  of  the  small  streams  emptying  into  the  main 
river.  When  we  coveted  a  meal  of  them,  ranging 
from  two  to  four  ounces,  we  knew  just  where  to 
find  them,  and,  what  is  equally  important,  just  how 
to  crisp  them.  There  may  be  a  more  delicious  dish 
than  small  brook-trout  properly  cooked,  just  as 
there  may  be  a  more  delicious  fruit  than  the  straw- 
berry, but  the  fact  has  not  yet  passed  into  the 
annals  of  modern  discovery. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  nor  uninteresting  to 
some  of  my  readers  to  say,  while  I  think  of  it,  that 
I  took  some  pains  to  gather  the  opinions  of  our 
Indian  guides  on  the  mooted  question,  "  Do  fish 
hear  ? "  To  my  surprise  I  found  that  there  was 
but  one  opinion  —  the  negative  of  the  question. 
And  a  great  many  facts  were  given  in  support  of 
this  opinion,  much  to  my  satisfaction,  as  I  have  for 
a  long  time  been  fully  satisfied  that  all  fish  are 
"  deaf  as  adders." 

This  question  was  amusingly  discussed  the  other 
day.  Having  arranged  to  change  camp,  we  re- 
quested one  of  the  baggage  canoe-guides,  who 
moved  off  a  day  in  advance  of  us,  to  mark  two  or 
three  spots  which  he  knew  to  be  good  casting 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  139 

places,  that  we  might  try  them  as  we  came  to 
them.  We  soon  found  a  cedar  slab  stuck  up  on 
which  was  written  in  charcoal  : 

"Fish  Hear!" 

The  occupant  of  the  first  canoe  which  came 
along,  not  caring  to  make  the  experiment,  and  see- 
ing his  opportunity  for  a  play  upon  words,  added  : 

"Do  Fish  Hear?" 

The  next  canoe,  catching  the  joke,  wrote  : 

Fish  Hear?" 


When  the  third  canoe  came  up,  the  contents  of 
the  placard  were  read  to  the  Indian,  and  his  opinion 
asked.  Looking  round  for  signs  of  fish,  he  quietly 
exclaimed  : 

"Ugh!  Fish  no*  Hear  !" 

Although  what  was  intended  for  a  very  different 
purpose  had  resulted  in  a  novel  discussion  of  a 
mooted  question,  it  was  decided  that  the  very  "  bad 
spell  "  had  reached  a  very  wise  conclusion. 

For  two  weeks  we  were  in  daily  telegraphic 
correspondence  with  Gen.  ARTHUR,  whose  illness 
obliged  him  to  return  home  after  he  had  accom- 
panied us  as  far  as  Bangor  on  our  way  hither.  The 
character  of  his  illness  (which  subsequently  devel- 
oped into  a  malignant  carbuncle)  rendered  us  un- 
easy, and  our  anxiety  could  only  be  appeased  by 


140  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

these  daily  bulletins.  A  fatal  termination  of  the 
malady  was  only  avoided,  under  Providence,  by 
careful  home  nursing  and  the  best  medical  attend- 
ance, aided  by  a  strong  constitution  and  an  indom- 
itable will.  The  announcement  of  his  hopeful 
convalescence  was  a  pleasant  piece  of  news,  and 
when  word  came  that  he  had  "  started  for  the  Cas- 
capedia,"  the  Judge  was  eloquent  in  the  expression 
of  his  gratitude  and  pleasure.  But  when  one 
delightful  Saturday  morning  he  was  seen  in  the 
distance  snugly  ensconced  midships  of  his  canoe, 
there  was  great  joy  in  camp  and  preparations  were 
made  to  give  him  a  fitting  welcome. 

The  Shedden  pool,  directly  in  front  of  the  camp, 
had  been  left  unfished  for  two  days  that  he  might 
enjoy  it  at  its  best.  And  it  never  "  panned  out " 
more  richly  than  during  the  first  afternoon  he 
fished  it.  In  five  hours  he  landed  four  salmon, 
besides  losing  one  through  the  stupidity  of  his 
gaffer,  after  a  two  hours'  fight.  They  averaged 
twenty-seven  pounds,  the  largest  weighing  thirty  - 
pounds.  With  the  capture  of  his  first  fish  the  last 
vestige  of  his  illness  left  him.  There  is  no  medi- 
cine equal  to  the  rise,  strike  and  struggle  of  a 
thirty-pound  salmon  to  bring  back  lost  vigor  to 
an  appreciative  convalescent. 

The  advent  of  the  General  among  us  was  cele- 
brated by  the  guides  in  the  evening  by  a  dance. 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  141 

This  was  rendered  possible,  in  due  form,  from  the 
fact  that  one  of  the  Indians  was  a  violinist,  and 
had  his  instrument  with  him.  The  lady  of  the 
neighboring  farm-house  kindly  proffered  her  best 
room,  and  her  three  daughters  were  quite  willing 
to  join  in  the  merry-making.  It  was  a  pleasant 
reunion,  marked  by  all  the  decorum,  with  a  thou- 
sand-fold the  vivacity  usually  exhibited  by  the 
"first  families"  under  like  circumstances.  The 
violinist  was  not  a  Paganini,  but  he  kept  perfect 
time  with  both  elbow  and  heels.  The  Indians 
were  very  lively  dancers,  and  the  young  ladies,  by 
the  ease  and  homely  grace  with  which,  in  their 
tunic-like  costumes,  they  followed  the  lead  of  their 
partners,  gave  evidence  of  long  practice.  If  none 
of  "  the  gentlemen "  (as  the  guests  were  politely 
designated)  "tripped  the  light,  fantastic  toe,"  it 
was  from  no  discourtesy.  The  measured  steps 
practiced  in  the  salons  of  "society,"  compared 
with  the  hearty  movements  of  these  lusty  dancers, 
would  have  been  as  monotonous  as  the  dull  thud 
of  a  muffled  drum  compared  with  the  rattling 
thunder  of  a  ponderous  trip-hammer. 

The  dancing  was  interspersed  with  vocal  music. 
Two  of  the  young  ladies  sang,  in  duet,  with  exqui- 
site taste  and  expression,  that  beautiful  Scotch  bal- 
lad, "  I  maun  gang  awa',  lassie ;"  and  the  General, 
not  to  be  outdone  in  courtesy,  recited  Burns' "  Tain 


142  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

o'  Shanter  "  and  "  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  in  a 
most  admirable  manner,  to  the  great  delight  of  the 
venerable  Scotch  matron  of  the  household  and 
"  ithers  o'  that  ilk  "  who  were  present.  The  Judge 
also  delighted  eveiy  one  by  his  good-humored  ren- 
dering of  that  classically  pathetic  ballad,  "Sam 
Jones,  the  fisherman,"  while  DUN  brought  tears  to 
the  eyes  of  his  susceptible  audience  by  artistically 
chanting  that  profoundly  plaintive  ditty  : 

44  On  Springfield  mountains  there  did  dwell, 
A  comely  youth  I  knew  full  well," — 

which  "  comely  youth,"  it  may  be  remembered, 
having  been  cruelly  jilted,  wandered  off  broken- 
hearted to  die  ignominiously  from  the  bite  of  "  a 
pesky  sarpent." 

In  reportorial  parlance,  "  nothing  occurred  to 
mar  the  festivities  of  the  occasion,"  and  all  retired 
at  an  early  hour  the  happier  for  having  participated 
in  the  innocent  hilarity  of  the  evening. 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 


A    SEARCH    AFTER    SOLITUDE. 

How  use  doth  breed  a  habit  in  a  man  ! 

The  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 

I  better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  towns. 

—  [Shakspeare. 

It  may  be  laid  down  as  a  position  which  will  seldom  de- 
ceive, that  when  a  man  cannot  bear  his  own  company,  there 
is  something  wrong. — [Dr.  Johnson. 


AVING  fished  all  the  pools  in  the 
neighborhood  of  our  main  camp, 
I  fancied  that  I  could  enjoy  my- 
self for  a  little  while  in  a  some- 
what more  primitive  manner, 
alone,  fishing  some  famous  pools 
.  ten  or  twelve  miles  higher  up 
the  river.  For,  to  tell  the  truth, 
our  luxurious  surroundings  hardly 
comported  with  my  early  educa- 
tion in  wood-craft,  or  with  my  .  ideas  of  the  ma- 
terial elements  which  should  enter  into  the  camp- 
life  of  those  who  were  even  ostensibly  "  roughing 
it."  Our  commissary  had  assured  us  that  it  would 
be  good  for  our  general  health  to  "  live  low  on  the 
river."  But  what  a  strange  conception  he  had  of 


144          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

low  living  !  Delicious  bacon,  smoked  ham,  broiled 
salmon,  fried  trout,  with  occasional  broiled  spring 
chickens,  tea  and  coffee,  and  oat-meal  porridge  with 
cream  for  breakfast !  Canned  ox-tail,  chicken  or 
turtle  soup,  with  boiled  salmon,  roast  or  stewed 
lamb  (fresh  from  a  neighboring  flock),  plumb-pud- 
ding, with  divers  jellies,  olives  and  pickles  for  din- 
ner, and  similar^  "  rough "  provender  for  our 
evening  meal !  Superadded  to  all  this,  tidy  tents, 
with  beds  that  wooed  slumber  like  the  music  of  the 
spheres,  and  thirty-pound  salmon  within  casting 
distance,  waiting  to  be  "  taken  in  out  of  the  wet !" 
Can  any  of  my  old  Adirondack  companions  won- 
der that  I  longed  to  exchange  this  sort  of  "  rough  " 
life  for  a  day  or  two  of  fried  pork  and  hard  tack, 
a  bark  shanty  and  no  conventionalities  ?  And 
my  Indian  guide  was  quite  as  ready  for  the  change 
as  myself,  in  spite  of  the  ten  miles  of  hard  push- 
ing that  was  before  him,  and  the  assurance  (which 
his  past  experience  afforded  him)  that  I  would  give 
him  no  rest  during  the  expedition. 

We  left  camp  at  eight  o'clock,  polled  two  miles 
and  killed  two  salmon  before  half-past  nine.  It 
was  an  auspicious  beginning,  and  the  day  closed 
with  the  capture  of  two  more  after  we  reached  our 
destination,  although  six  of  the  ten  hours  I  was  on 
the  water  were  consumed  in  making  the  journey. 

The  "  Upper  Camp,"  as  it  is  called,  was  not  hap- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  145 

pily  chosen  It  is  pitched  on  a  sandy  promontory, 
closely  enveloped  on  three  sides  by  a  dense  jungle, 
from  which  a  nervous  sojourn er  might  expect  at 
any  hour  of  the  night  a  bear,  wild-cat  or  moose  to 
emerge.  But  it  affords  a  perfect  shelter  from  the 
winds,  which  often  sweep  down  through  the  gor- 
ges of  the  mountains  with  fearful  fury.  It  did  so 
elsewhere  on  the  river  during  my  first  night  alone. 
At  the  main  camp,  the  tornado  was  so  severe  that 
tents  and  shanties  were  in  danger,  and  were  only 
saved  from  demolition  with  the  greatest  difficulty ; 
and  it  was  as  cold  as  it  was  tempestuous.  But  in 
my  sheltered  nook  all  was  as  quiet  as  if  but  a 
zephyr,  instead  of  old  Boreas,  was  dallying  with 
the  green  leaves  above  me,  and  I  sat  in  solitary 
state  before  my  camp-fire  in  summer  garments, 
while  my  friends  ten  miles  off  were  pitying  me 
for  the  discomforts  I  must  be  experiencing  in  my 
unsheltered  cabin  !  So  it  is.  Half  the  sympathy 
we  expend  upon  others  is  wasted,  either  because 
the  ills  feared  do  not  come  to  them,  or  because 
"  the  darkest  cloud  always  has  its  silver  lining." 

These  two  days  of  isolation  passed  away  very 
pleasantly.  The  weather  was  superb,  the  scenery 
magnificent  and  the  sport  all  that  I  could  desire. 
Only  a  single  incident  occurred  worth  special  men- 
tion. In  slowly  drifting  through  an  unpropitious 
looking  pool,  I  made  a  cast  or  two  at  a  venture, 
19 


14:6  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

and  unexpectedly  hooked  a  fish  of  some  twelve  or 
fifteen  pounds.  As  the  canoe  was  moving  when 
he  rose,  I  struck  him  awkwardly,  but  he  was  fairly 
hooked.  He  showed  his  metal  from  the  start.  His 
first  run  nearly  emptied  my  reel,  and  for  half  an 
hour  he  engaged  in  more  curious  pranks  than  any 
fish  I  had  ever  encountered.  He  literally  "  boxed 
the  compass,"  and  by  his  eccentric  movements  kept 
the  canoe  and  myself  in  a  perpetual  whirl.  I  never 
had  hold  of  a  fish  which  seemed  more  determined 
to  escape.  The  only  possible  way  to  prevent  the 
line  from  running  out  was  to  follow  him  up,  which 
we  did,  of  course ;  but  this  required  incessant 
u  reeling  in  " —  an  exhausting  piece  of  work,  which 
becomes  rather  monotonous  after  a  while.  Tired 
and  a  little  nervous,  with  the  canoe  and  fish  in  con- 
stant motion,  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  series  of 
leaps  which  followed  in  such  rapid  succession  as  to 
be  quite  bewildering.  One  of  these  was  of  such 
unusual  height  that  I  was  startled  and  neglected 
to  lower  my  rod  at  the  right  moment.  As  a  result 
he  tore  off!  He  had  earned  his  liberty;  and  it 
seemed  so  impossible  to  master  him  that  I  scarcely 
regretted  his  escape. 

I  have,  I  believe,  in  a  former  chapter  said  some- 
thing about  the  difficulty  of  acquiring  the  art  ne- 
cessary to  save  a  leaping  fish.  There  is  seldom 
any  danger  in  the  ascent,  because  the  line  is  then 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  147 

loosened  and  the  expert  angler  instinctively  recov- 
ers any  slack  that  may  result  from  this  movement, 
so  that  by  the  time  the  fish  is  ready  to  descend,  the 
line  is  taut ;  and  unless  this  descent  is  followed  by 
a  simultaneous  dropping  of  the  tip  of  the  rod,  such 
a  sudden  strain  on  the  line  will  ensue  as  to  inevit- 
ably either  break  something  or  tear  out  the  hook. 
The  latter  mishap  was  what  befell  me  on  this  occa- 
sion. The  hook  had  caught  in  some  tender  place 
in  the  mouth  of  the  fish,  strong  enough  to  resist 
any  ordinary  strain  but  not  strong  enough  to  re- 
sist the  pressure  of  a  five  or  six  feet  plunge.  No 
fish  ever  afterward  leaped  with  my  fly  that  my  rod 
did  not,  in  response,  bow  as  promptly  and  as  grace- 
fully as  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion  required. 
No  lesson  is  harder  to  learn,  because  nothing  in  all 
the  angler's  experience  is  so  exciting  as  the  spiteful 
leaps  of  a  hooked  salmon. 

So,  with  the  dashing  rapids  sparkling  in  the 
sun,  with  the  balmy  atmosphere  redolent  with  the 
aroma  of  a  thousand  flowers,  with  the  mountains 
casting  their  giant  shadows  upon  the  ever-changing 
landscape,  with  ten  thousand  birds  warbling  their 
grateful  anthems,  with  no  fretting  cares  or  bab- 
bling intruders  to  jar  upon  the  harmony  of  the 
scene,  my  ten-mile  ride  home  was  inexpressibly 
exhilarating.  I  can  hope  to  experience  no  more 
ecstatic  emotions  until  I  stand  upon  the  banks  of 


148  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

that  "  pure  river  of  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal," 
which  sparkles  in  the  sunlight  of  an  eternal  day. 

While  I  had  been  thus  reveling  in  solitude  and 
enjoying  myself  to  the  "top  of  my  bent,"  DUN 
and  the  Judge  were  rendered  equally  happy  by  the 
magnificent  sport  they  had  had  in  my  absence. 
Each  recounted  his  successes  and  mishaps  before  a 
rousing  camp-fire,  and  the  night  was  far  advanced 
before  the  Judge  wearied  of  describing,  in  his  own 
inimitable  way,  the  unpurchasable  felicities  avail- 
able to  a  true  angler  on  the  banks  of  the  "fair 
Cascapedia." 

A  day  or  two  before  my  solitary  ramble,  an  acci- 
dent occurred  on  the  river  which  might  have  re- 
sulted seriously,  but  which  simply  inconvenienced 
the  gentlemen  who  were  the  unfortunate  victims 
of  it.  I  have  before  alluded  to  Mr.  KINNEAR, 
of  St.  John,  a  veteran  angler,  and  Capt.  GRANT, 
of  England,  accomplished  in  all  the  mysteries  of 
the  art,  who  accompanied  our  party  to  the  river, 
and  who  proceeded  to  the  upper  pools,  thirty  miles 
distant,  to  fish.  They  had  with  them  most  of  their 
supplies  for  a  fortnight,  and  their  canoes  were  ne- 
cessarily heavily  laden.  They  had  ascended  several 
of  the  worst  rapids  in  safety,  and  their  Indian 
guides  (two  of  whom  had  never  before  been  on 
the  river)  had  become  less  watchful  than  is  essen- 
tial to  safety  in  these  turbulent  waters.  The  for- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  149 

ward  canoe,  which  was  in  charge  of  the  two  stran- 
gers, was  being  pushed  up  a  very  strong  rapid, 
over  one  side  of  which  a  fallen  tree  projected. 
For  a  moment  the  canoe  swerved  from  a  direct 
course,  was  instantly  driven  backward  with  the 
speed  of  an  arrow  against  this  fallen  tree,  and  went 
over  like  a  flash,  precipitating  Mr.  KINNEAR,  his 
guides  and  all  the  luggage  into  the  rushing  waters. 
When  Mr.  K.  came  up  (for  at  that  particular  spot 
the  water  is  very  deep)  he  found  himself  under  the 
canoe,  wedged  in  amongst  the  luggage ;  but  he 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  dive,  and  so  extrica- 
ted himself  in  time  to  prevent  strangulation.  It 
was  a  narrow  escape,  for  which  he  was  duly  grate- 
ful. The  occupants  of  the  other  canoes  came  to 
the  rescue  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids  where  the  water 
was  not  so  deep,  and  succeeded  in  catching  most 
of  the  luggage  as  it  floated  past.  The  canoe  itself 
was  badly  broken,  and  it  took  two  or  three  days  to 
repair  damages  and  to  dry  the  saturated  garments 
of  the  party.  We  had  a  visit  from  the  captain, 
attired  in  Mr.  KIXNEAR'S  breeches  ;  and  as  Mr.  K. 
weighs  two  hundred  and  twenty,  and  Captain 
GRANT  one  hundred  and  fifty,  the  captain  looked 
far  less  jaunty  than  when  on  parade  with  his  crack 
regiment  at  home.  But  he  enjoyed  the  mishap  as 
an  incident  in  his  visit  to  the  river. 

Captain  GRANT  is  a  fine  representative  of  the 
enthusiastic  anglers  of    the  old  world.     He  has 


150          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLLNG. 

been  a  salmon  fisher  from  his  youth  up,  having 
taken  his  first  lessons  in  Scottish  waters  so  soon  as 
he  had  acquired  the  muscle  to  make  a  cast.  The 
passion  had  strengthened  with  his  strength,  and 
he  had  had  the  opportunity  to  gratify  his  tastes  in 
all  the  most  famous  rivers  in  the  four  quarters  of 
the  globe.  But  in  all  his  wanderings  he  found  no 
waters  so  attractive  as  these.  Whether  in  the  East 
or  West  Indies  —  whether  on  the  Tweed  or  Shan- 
non —  whether  "  at  home  "  or  in  the  jungles  — 
his  recollection  of  these  salmon  rivers  was  an  ever- 
present  and  an  ever-pleasant  memory  —  the  subject 
of  his  discourse  by  day  and  of  his  dreams  in  the 
night  watches.  And  as  proof  of  his  enthusiasm 
he  had  twice  crossed  the  Atlantic  for  no  other  pur- 
pose than  to  fish  for  salmon.  The  present  season 
he  took  the  steamer  at  Liverpool,  landed  at  Farther 
Point,  spent  a  month  on  the  Restigouche  and  the 
Cascapedia,  returned  directly  to  Farther  Point,  and 
from  thence  home  —  only  too  happy  to  make  a 
journey  of  six  thousand  miles  to  cast  his  fly  in 
these  magnificent  salmon  waters.  Nor  is  his  an 
isolated  case.  Many  another  of  like  tastes,  and 
with  a  like  appreciation  of  the  kingly  sport,  every 
year  make  the  same  journey.  All  of  these  "  sim- 
ple wise  men  "  may  not  be  "  princes  in  the  king's 
household,"  but  not  one  of  them  would  assume 
the  dignity  of  royalty  itself  if  it  involved  the  sur- 
render of  their  prerogative  at  will  to  "  go  a-fishing." 


CHAPTEK  XX. 


A    SHORT   ESSAY   ON   FLY    CASTING. 

But,  Johnnie,  I  maun,  as  ye'r  frien',  warn  ye  that  it's  no'  the 
fly,  nor  the  water,  nor  the  rod,  nor  the  win',  nor  the  licht,  can 
dae  the  job,  wi'oot  the  watchfu'  e'e  and  steady  han',  and  a 
feeling  for  the  business  that's  kin'  o'  born  wi'  a  fisher,  but 
hoo  that  comes  aboot  I  dinna  ken. — [Donald  Macleod,  D.  D. 


KDINAKILY  the  waters  of  these 
salmon  rivers  are  so  transparent 
that  in  still  pools  long  casts  are 
indispensable  to  success.  I  make 
this  qualification  because  great 
length  of  line  is  not  so  necessary 
in  pools  whose  surface  is  broken 
by  the  current  ripples,  which 
serve  the  same  purpose  in  a  sal- 
mon pool  that  a  sharp  breeze 
does  on  trout  waters — they  blur  the  vision  of  the 
fish  and  render  a  more  near  approach  feasible.  But 
I  never  cast  in  either  without  parodying  Napoleon's 
maxim :  "  Providence  is  on  the  side  of  the  heaviest 
battalions  :  "  success  is  on  the  side  of  the  longest 
casts.  I  remember  very  well  where  I  first  learned 
this  lesson.  Many  years  ago,  long  before  the  North 
Woods  became  the  fashionable  resort  of  mere  plea- 


152  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

sure  seekers,  and  while  anglers  still  held  the  un dis- 
puted monopoly  of  their  crystal  waters,  "  Cole's 
Point,1'  at  the  foot  of  Big  Tupper,  was  one  of  my 
favorite  resorts.  Cast  when  I  would,  at  early  morn- 
ing, at  midday  or  in  the  gloaming,  I  was  always 
sure  of  good  sport.  I  would  begin  with  a  short 
cast,  standing  well  back  and  dropping  my  fly  at  the 
very  edge  of  the  point  around  which  the  current, 
in  those  days,  flowed  with  a  graceful  undulating 
motion  over  a  cluster  of  bowlders  where  trout  loved 
to  congregate.  For  a  few  minutes  I  was  kept  busy, 
but  the  responses  speedily  ceased.  By  projecting 
my  fly  a  few  feet  farther  out,  like  results  would 
follow ;  and  so  on  until  I  had  swept  the  entire 
length  and  breadth  of  the  pool.  Full  half  my  take 
was  from  long  casts.  Why  ?  Not  because  I  had 
taken  all  the  fish  that  were  within  easy  reach  when 
I  began  to  cast,  but  because  those  I  did  not  take, 
alarmed  either  by  the  shadow  of  my  rod  or  the 
stragglings  of  the  fish  I  hooked,  slowly  retreated, 
not  really  frightened,  perhaps,  but  disturbed,— 
halting  after  a  dart  or  two,  to  become  themselves 
the  victims  of  their  ravenous  appetite.  If  I  had 
not  followed  them  as  they  retired,  I  would  not  now 
have  such  pleasant  recollections  of  "  Cole's  Point " 
as  it  was  twenty  years  ago,  before  the  dam  at  Set- 
ting Pole  rapids  had  changed  the  whole  surface  of 
the  Raquette  waters  below  the  Raquette  falls. 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  153 

As  it  is  with  trout  so  is  it  with  salmon.  When 
they  are  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  your  canoe, 
the  glint  of  your  paddle  or  the  shadow  of  your  rod, 
they  do  not  rush  from  the  pool,  but  they  do  what 
the  leopard  cannot  do  —  they  change  their  spots, 
retiring  it  may  be  fifty,  eighty  or  a  hundred  feet 
from  where  your  are  anchored.  If  then  you  have 
the  skill  to  reach  them,  you  have  a  great  advantage 
over  those  who  have  but  half  your  skill.  Hence 
my  theory  that  success  is  always  with  the  angler 
who  makes  the  longest  casts. 

I  once  saw  this  very  strikingly  illustrated  in  a 
broad  pool  in  which  two  friends  were  fishing  at  the 
same  time.  They  were  anchored  on  either  side, 
and  there  was  "  ample  space  and  verge  enough  " 
for  both.  But  one  could  never  get  out  more  than 
sixty  feet  of  line,  while  eighty  or  ninety  feet  was 
an  easy  cast  for  the  other.  With  this  exception, 
both  were  equally  expert,  equally  enthusiastic  and 
equally  familiar  with  the  habits  and  dainty  tastes 
of  their  coveted  prey.  But  the  long  cast  scored 
two  to  his  neighbor's  one,  because  he  'had  practically 
two-thirds  of  the  pool.  It  is  always  thus,  and  hence 
every  angler  either  for  trout  or  salmon,  should,  if 
possible,  acquire  the  art  of  giving  his  line  a  long 
sweep. 

But  some  never  acquire  this  art.  Most  novices 
start  out  with  the  idea  that  it  simply  requires  the 

20 


154  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

exercise  of  great  muscular  exertion  to  get  out  a  long 
line.  They  lift  their  eight  or  ten  ounce  trout-rod 
as  if  they  were  lifting  a  sledge-hammer,  and  push 
it  out  with  as  much  force  as  they  would  use  to 
render  the  blow  of  a  beetle  effective.  But  no  long 
cast  was  ever  secured  in  that  way.  A  quick  but 
gentle  movement,  requiring  scarcely  more  muscular 
exertion  than  the  natural  swing  of  the  arm,  is  all 
that  is  necessary,  taking  care,  however,  that  the 
line  extends  its  full  length  backward  before  you 
force  it  to  its  forward  movement.  This  is  the  sim- 
ple single  rule,  by  adhering  to  which,  after  reason- 
able practice,  any  one  may  make  as  long  casts  as 
are  ever  profitable.  The  same  rule  holds  good  in 
wielding  the  heavy  double-handed  salmon-rod, 
except  that  its  greater  weight  requires  greater  exer- 
tion. But  even  here,  length  of  line  follows  regu- 
larity of  movement  rather  than  muscular  force, 
and  yet  without  springy  and  well-balanced  rods 
neither  skill  nor  muscle  will  be  of  any  avail.  It  is 
easier  for  me  to  cast  eighty  feet  with  one  of  my 
salmon-rods  than  fifty  feet  with  another.  In  the 
one,  every  fibre,  from  tip  to  reel,  seems  instinct 
with  life,  while  the  other  is  as  rigid  and  irrespon- 
sive as  a  hoop-pole.  But,  given  a  good  rod  and 
ordinarily  skillful  manipulation,  no  angler  is  excus- 
able who  cannot  easily  cast  his  trout-line  sixty  and 
his  salmon-line  ninety  feet,  where  there  are  no 
obstructions  within  the  radius  of  the  cast. 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  155 

No  two  anglers  ever  cast  exactly  alike.    One  gets 
out  his  eighty  feet  of  line  by  a  perfectly  straight 
backward  and  forward  movement  of  his  rod.    This 
is  the  most  natural  movement,  the  most  simple,  and 
generally  the  most  effective.     But  in  this  move- 
ment, without  a  slight  deviation  from  a  straight 
line  somewhere,  there  is  always  danger  that  your 
line  or  leader  may,  at  some  point  in  their  journey, 
overlap.     This  danger  is  always  imminent  with  a 
brisk  breeze  at  your  back.     I  do  not,  of  course, 
invariably  adhere  to  this  movement, — never  when 
the  necessities  of  the  case  require  a  side  cast ;  but 
where  no  material  divergence  from  a  straight  line 
is  necessary,  I  find  it  the  most  effective.     Others 
give  the  rod  its  backward  movement  over  the  left 
shoulder  and  its  forward  movement  over  the  right, 
or  vice  versa.   This  gives  the  line  a  graceful  sweep 
which  is  not  only  artistic  but  avoids  the  danger  of 
lapping.     To  make  an  equally  long  cast  with  this 
movement,  however,  requires    greater  skill   than 
with  the  other  ;  for,  without  the  very  nicest  appre- 
ciation of  time  and  distance,  the  curved  sweep  of 
the  line  will  prevent  it  from  acquiring  the  direct 
position  indispensable  to  a  perfect  forward  projec- 
tion.    But  those  who  adopt  this  movement  gene- 
rally know  what  they  are  about.     Indeed,  the  very- 
best   anglers   of  my  acquaintance  (notably   Gen. 
ARTHUR)  practice  it  altogether.     Others  invariably 


156          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

make  the  side  or  under  cast,  seldom  lifting  their 
rod  above  their  shoulder.  There  are  supposed  ad- 
vantages in  such  a  movement,  but  I  have  never 
been  able  to  discover  them.  One  must  have  a  large 
space  of  clear  water  to  escape  such  entanglements 
with  brush  or  tree-tops  as  no  angler  covets.  Of 
course,  there  are  times  when  this  movement  is 
necessary  to  enable  one  to  reach  desirable  objective 
points,  but  it  is  not  a  movement  to  "  tie  to."  Others 
still  have  110  fixed  mode  of  casting.  It  is  their  boast 
that  they  are  equally  expert  in  all.  As  a  rule,  how- 
ever, you  will  find  that  in  angling  as  in  everything 
else,  those  who  are  "  equally  expert  in  all "  rarely 
excel  in  any. 

In  casting,  attitude  may  not  be  everything,  but 
it  is  a  great  deal.  And  what  a  multitude  of  atti- 
tudes anglers  assume !  Some  stand  as  erect  as  pil- 
lars, swaying  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left, 
whatever  reach  of  line  they  covet.  Some  sway  to 
and  fro,  with  every  movement  of  their  rod,  like  a 
tall  pine  in  a  tempest.  Others  throw  themselves 
forward  as  if  ambitious  to  follow  their  fly  in  person ; 
while  now  and  then  one  casts  with  an  ease  and 
grace  of  attitude  and  movement  which  would  excite 
the  envy  and  admiration  of  an  athlete  or  sculptor. 
As  I  write,  the  recollection  of  one  such  comes  back 
to  me  very  pleasantly.  He  was  an  Adonis  in  form 
and  physique,  and  his  casting  was  the  perfect 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  157 

"  poetry  of  motion."  Although  like  many  of  his 
contemporaries,  his  frosted  locks  and  furrowed 
cheeks  give  token  of  advancing  years,  he  still  finds 
pleasure  in  the  attractive  pastime  of  angling.  You 
have  but  to  say  to  him,  as  Peter  said  to  his  discon- 
solate brethren,  "  I  go  a-fishing,"  to  secure  from 
him  their  response,  "  I  go  also." 

But  however  one  casts,  it  is  impossible  always  to 
distinguish  between  the  strike  of  a  trout  and  that 
of  a  salmon  ;  and  as  both  are  often  found  in  the 
same  pool,  the  angler  is  frequently  annoyed  by  a 
call  from  the  one  when  he  is  only  eager  to  pay  his 
respects  to  the  other.  The  most  experienced  are 
often  deceived,  and  they  sometimes  only  discover 
their  mistake  after  many  minutes  of  exciting  play. 
A  four  or  five-pound  trout  (and  trout  of  these 
weights  are  very  common  in  these  waters)  can  no 
more  be  hurried  home  than  a  twenty-pound  salmon. 
The  rod  will  only  bear  a  certain  pressure,  and  for 
a  little  while  a  five-pound  trout  reaches  this  point 
as  unmistakably  as  the  larger  fish. 

It  was  not  until  several  days  after  it  happened 
that  Judge  FULLERTON  had  the  courage  to  relate  an 
incident  in  his  experience  which  goes  to  show  how 
even  a  very  wise  man  and  a  very  expert  angler 
may  be  deceived.  He  had  been  casting  for  some 
time  without  success,  and  was  becoming  impatient, 
when  his  fly  was  taken  by  a  fish  which  ran  off  with 


158  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

his  line  as  savagely  as  a  forty-pound  salmon  would 
have  done.  The  strike  was  magnificent,  and  the 
rush  and  resistance  gave  promise  of  a  long  fight. 
It  was  quite  in  vain  that  he  tried  to  reel  him  in. 
The  fish  fought  like  a  tiger,  and  not  only  compelled 
the  Judge  to  frequently  give  him  line,  but  rendered 
it  necessary  to  follow  him  up  to  save  the  threatened 
tackling.  So,  through  the  pool  he  went  on  a  run, 
then  over  the  rapids  with  a  rush,  and  down  the 
swift  water  for  half  a  mile,  like  a  race-horse.  His 
headlong  movements  were  simply  irresistible,  and 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  follow  his  lead.  So, 
the  canoe  and  the  fish  dashed  on  together,  the 
Judge  in  an  ecstacy  of  delight  with  the  magnificent 
play  the  gallant  fellow  was  giving  him.  In  the 
height  of  the  battle,  angler  and  gaffer  pronounced 
him  a  twenty-pounder  at  least,  and  would  have 
scorned  to  take  off  a  single  ounce  from  their  esti- 
mate. And  so  the  struggle  continued  for  half  an 
hour,  hot  and  heavy,  the  Judge  all  aglow  with  per- 
spiration and  excitement,  when  the  fish  was  brought 
to  gaff,  and  came  up  a  five-pound  trout  instead  of 
a  twenty-pound  salmon!  But  "mum  was  the 
word  !  "  and  the  gaffer  was  faithful  to  his  promise. 
He  gave  no  sign ;  and  it  was  not  until  some  others 
of  us  had  related  similar  experiences  that  the  Judge 
revealed  this  adventure  with  an  imaginary  twenty- 
pound  salmon  which  turned  out  to  be  simply  a  five- 
pound  trout. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

A    FOKEST    PICTURE AN   UPSET   IN 

There  is,  I  think,  a  love  of  novelty  in  all  anglers.  We  pre- 
fer to  fish  new  waters  when  we  can,  and  it  is  sometimes 
pleasanter  to  explore,  even  without  success,  than  to  take  fish 
in  familiar  places.  New  and  fine  scenery  is  always  worth 
finding.— [  W.  C.  Prime. 

HERE  are  a  few  pools  on  this  river 
as  on  others,  where  an  occasional 
salmon  can  be  taken  at  any  time 
from  the  first  of  June  to  the  close 
of  the  season.  Among  these  is 
the  "Shedden  pool,"  which  is 
known  as  one  of  the  very  best 
between  tide-water  and  the  Forks. 
But  after  the  middle  of  July,  it  is 
too  near  the  sea  to  afford  as  rich 
returns  as  some  others  twenty  or  thirty  miles 
farther  up.  It  is  salmon  nature  when  started  on 
their  annual  pilgrimage,  to  keep  moving  until 
they  reach  their  maternal  destination.  On  this 
river  their  chief  spawning-places  are  from  fifty 
to  seventy  miles  from  tide-water.  But  there  are 
pools  where  they  like  to  tarry  on  their  journey ; 
and  we  found  none  more  generally  thus  honored 


160  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

than  the  pool  referred  to.  Others  might  be 
u  whipped "  in  vain,  but  this  seldom  failed  to 
reward  the  patient  angler,  no  matter  when  or  how 
often  it  was  visited.  A  monopoly  of  it  for  the 
season  would  afford  any  reasonable  fisherman  all 
the  sport  and  pleasure  he  could  desire,  if  he  had 
no  other  object  in  visiting  these  waters  than  to 
fish.  But  they  greatly  mistake  the  temper  and 
tastes  of  the  true  angler  who  assume  that  he  is 
attracted  to  these  quiet  places  simply  to  kill  and  to 
destroy.  To  have  the  opportunity  to  fish  consti- 
tutes but  one  of  the  threads  in  the  golden  cord 
which  draws  him  to  the  grand  old  forests  in  whose 
mountain  streams  trout  and  salmon  "  most  do  con- 
gregate." If  he  finds  pleasure  in  the  rise  and 
strike  and  struggle  of  a  mammoth  fish,  so  also  is 
he  lifted  up  out  of  the  rut  of  common-place  emo- 
tions by  his  majestic  surroundings  —  by  the  ever- 
shifting  shadows  on  the  mountain ;  by  the  inces- 
sant music  of  the  birds  ;  by  the  never-ending  mel- 
ody of  the  singing  waters ;  by  the  splash  and  foam 
and  sparkle  of  the  leaping  cascade  ;  by  the  glint- 
ing sun -light  upon  ripple  and  rapid  ;  by  the  shad- 
owy depths  of  the  impenetrable  forest ;  by  jagged 
rock  and  giant  bowlder  and  dark  pool  and  gliding 
river,  and  a  thousand  other  "  things  of  beauty  " 
which  remain  upon  the  canvas  of  his  memory 
long  after  the  minor  incidents  of  fish- taking  are  for- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  161 

gotten.  No  ;  it  is  not  all  of  fishing  to  fish.  That 
is  but  an  incident  in  the  angler's  pleasant  pastime. 
They  have  other  and  higher,  if  not  more  invigora- 
ting and  exhilarating  tastes  to  gratify.  This  beau- 
tiful picture  of  the  poet  is  as  often  in  their  mind's 
eye  as  the  rush  and  leap  of  the  silver  salmon  : 

The  trees  are  bursting  iuto  bud  and  bloom ; 

The  hills  lie  blue  beneath  a  sapphire  sky; 
The  birds  breathe  music,  and  the  flowers  perfume ; 

The  pools  lie  placid  as  a  maiden's  eye. 

I  am  sure  that  no  one  of  our  party  would  be 
content  to  visit  any  salmon  river  if  they  were 
restricted  to  such  narrow  limits  as  would  afford 
them  no  variety  in  landscape,  and  no  range  for 
adventure.  Quite  as  much  pleasure  is  derived  from 
experimenting  in  untried  waters  and  in  hunting 
up  new  bits  of  scenery,  as  in  running  up  a  great 
"  score  "  to  excite  the  admiration  of  partial  friends 
or  kindle  the  ire  of  envious  rivals. 

As  the  summer  tourist  often  finds  the  most 
charming  nooks  by  diverging  from  the  beaten  path, 
so  does  the  angler  often  find  the  most  attractive 
scenery  by  following  up  some  half-hidden  brook  or 
rivulet  which  empties  its  crystal  waters  into  the 
more  majestic  river  which  bears  them  to  the  sea. 
I  had  often  fished  the  "  Escumenack  pool,"  which 
lies  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  of  that  name,  and 
had  as  often  resolved  to  explore  its  hidden  chan- 

21 


162  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

nel  through  the  massive  mountains  amid  which  it 
has  its  source.  So,  one  sunny  afternoon  my  canoe 
was  headed  thitherward  with  as  keen  a  relish  for 
discovery  as  ever  Columbus  experienced  while 
wearily  waiting  for  royalty  to  launch  him  out  upon 
unknown  seas.  And  I  had  my  reward  in  such  a 
revelation  of  beauty  as  seldom  comes  to  mortal 
vision.  When  we  had  pushed  oui  way  through 
some  half  mile  of  very  swift  water,  we  dropped 
into  a  natural  basin  of  solid  rock,  whose  picturesque 
surroundings  constituted  a  fitting  frame-work  for 
the  most  charming  and  peaceful  picture  I  ever  saw. 
The  water  was  from  twenty  to  fifty  feet  deep,  yet 
so  transparent  that  the  tiniest  pebble  was  as  clearly 
visible  at  the  greatest  depth  as  if  held  in  the  naked 
hand.  What  a  pool  for  trout  in  their  season  ! 
Now,  however,  not  a  fish  revealed  himself.  I  made 
a  few  casts,  but  without  discovering  any  sign  of 
life  until  my  fly  reached  the  rim  of  the  basin,  sixty 
feet  distant,  and  then  I  only  "flushed"  a  large 
trout,  who  refused  my  lure  and  moved  off  a  few 
feet,  as  if  disturbed  by  the  unexpected  apparition. 
But  the  water  was  so  clear  that  I  saw  his  every 
movement  as  he  lay  in  seeming  dread  of  what 
might  befall  him.  In  all  my  travels  I  never  met 
with  any  water  so  perfectly  transparent,  or  in 
which  a  minute  object  could  be  seen  at  so  great  a 
depth. 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  163 

A  few  rods  further  brought  us  to  the  foot  of  the 
falls  —  a  triplet  of  terraced  cascades,  combining  as 
many  points  of  beauty  as  Trenton,  with  more  pic- 
turesque surroundings  and  as  much  to  captivate 
the  artist  and  excite  the  admiration  of  the  appre- 
ciative lover  of  nature.  They  are  seldom  visited, 
even  by  anglers,  because  they  are  but  little  talked 
of.  My  Indian  guide  knew  of  them,  but  seemed 
to  have  no  thought  that  any  one  would  care  to  see 
them ;  and  it  was  not  until  I  announced  my  pur- 
pose to  start  out  on  a  tour  of  -observation  that  he 
informed  me  that  I  would  find  something  that 
would  reward  me  for  my  trouble.  Hereafter,  so 
long  as  I  shall  be  permitted  to  fish  in  these  waters, 
I  will  be  sure  to  pay  these  falls  a  visit. 

Similar  bits  of  scenery  are  scattered  all  over  this 
vast  wilderness  of  forest,  river  and  mountain.  All 
the  rivers  have  their  sources  hundreds  of  feet  above 
the  sea.  The  descent  is  not  always  made  by  a  suc- 
cession of  rapids.  At  some  points  in  most  of  them 
there  are  falls  of  no  mean  altitude,  beyond  which 
no  salmon  can  ascend,  and  at  the  foot  of  which, 
in  the  season,  they  gather  in  fabulous  numbers. 
There  is  such  a  gathering  place  on  this  river,  sev- 
enty miles  from  the  sea.  We  were  within  twenty 
miles  of  it,  but  such  fearful  stories  were  told  us  of 
the  difficulty  of  making  the  ascent  —  of  foaming 
rapids  and  jagged  rocks,  and  probable  shipwreck  — 


164  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

that  we  consoled  ourselves  with  the  reflection  that 
it  "wouldn't  pay,"  the  more  particularly  as  our 
own  knowledge  of  the  river  convinced  us  that  the 
trip  was  only  practicable  during  a  higher  stage  of 
water  than  prevailed  while  we  were  in  camp  at  the 
Forks.  But  I  hope,  before  Providence  shall  shut 
me  off  from  the  Cascapedia,  to  behold  the  wonders 
which  may  be  seen  at  this  famous  "  summer  re- 
sort "  of  the  aristocracy  of  the  sea. 

In  a  recent  letter  I  had  occasion  to  mention  a 
mishap  which  befell  Mr.  KINNEAR  and  Capt. 
GRANT.  A  similar  incident  occurred  to  Gen.  AR- 
THUR soon  after.  He  had  been  fishing  "Lazy 
Bogan" — a  famous  pool  in  the  vicinity  of  our 
camp  —  with  indifferent  success,  when  he  deemed 
it  advisable  to  change  his  base.  To  do  so  it  was 
necessary  to  cross  the  stream  at  right  angles  with 
the  current.  Ordinarily  this  could  have  been  done 
with  safety,  but  unfortunately  the  General,  with 
an  eye  to  comfort,  had  placed  a  chair  in  his  canoe, 
and  in  crossing,  the  frail  craft  careened  under  the 
pressure  of  the  swift  water,  and  this  caused  the 
chair  to  tilt  and  brought  the  General's  two  hun- 
dred pounds  "  avoir-du-pois  "  to  such  an  angle  as  to 
cause  the  canoe  to  roll  over  "quicker  than  you 
could  say  Jack  Robinson."  The  General,  always 
submissive  to  constituted  authority,  promptly 
obeyed  the  law  of  gravitation,  and  was  instantly 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  165 

submerged.  But  being  a  good  swimmer,  instead 
of  ignominiously  beating  a  retreat  for  the  shore, 
he  made  for  the  canoe  to  prevent  it,  if  possible, 
from  passing  down  the  rapids,  to  be  there  wrecked 
upon  the  rocks.  But  "  Lo,  the  poor  Indian,"  hav- 
ing either  less  courage  or  more  discretion,  made 
for  terra  firma  with  masterly  "  neatness  and  dis- 
patch." And,  as  the  sequel  proved,  it  was  well 
that  he  did,  for  as  he  was  stoically  watching  the 
canoe  and  its  submerged  but  self-possessed  navi- 
gator, he  saw  the  General's  pocket-book  gracefully 
floating  down  stream,  and  succeeded  in  clutching 
it.  The  fact  that  it  was  so  light  that  it  floated 
should  be  universally  received  as  conclusive  of  its 
owner's  official  integrity.  Indeed,  but  for  this 
incidental  evidence  of  his  "honest  poverty,"  it 
may  be  questioned  whether  he  would  have  received 
the  high  honor  of  a  unanimous  vote  on  the  ques- 
tion of  his  confirmation,  for  a  second  term,  as  Col- 
lector of  the  Port  of  New  York.  No  other  mis- 
chief resulted  from  this  mishap  than  a  thorough 
ducking,  except  that  the  General's  watch  stopped 
at  the  moment  of  the  disaster,  which  was  precisely 
eight  minutes  to  seven,  on  one  of  the  loveliest 
evenings  of  the  year. 

Something  which  might  have  been  more  serious 
occurred  to  myself  while  passing  down  one  of  the 
most  impetuous  rapids  on  the  river.  My  Indian 


166  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

guide  was  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe.  He  saw  a 
dangerous  rock  ahead,  and  gave  proper  directions 
to  the  man  in  the  stern,  but  his  directions  were 
misapprehended.  The  result  was  that  while  the 
one  was  trying  to  keep  the  canoe  on  the  shore  side 
of  the  rock,  the  other  was  doing  his  best  to  keep 
the  rock  on  the  shore  side  of  the  canoe.  In  this 
conflict  of  muscle  the  frail  craft  was  rushing  head- 
on  to  the  rock  at  a  speed  of  at  least  twenty  miles 
an  hour.  The  Indian  saw  the  peril,  and  with  a 
sweep  of  his  paddle  into  which  he  seemingly  put 
the  strength  of  ten  men,  he  succeeded  in  swinging 
the  canoe  inward,  so  that  the  bow  just  grazed  the 
bowlder,  while  its  bulging  side  came  against  it  with 
a  thud  which,  but  for  the  elastic  character  of  the 
birch  bark  of  which  it  was  constructed,  would  have 
smashed  it  into  a  thousand  pieces.  It  was  an 
anxious  moment,  for  the  water  rushed  downward 
amid  a  hundred  other  rocks  with  such  force  that 
only  an  expert  swimmer  could  have  got  through 
in  safety.  The  Indian  was  evidently  in  a  white 
heat  with  rage,  and  so,  from  the  fact  that  I  never 
before  heard  him  use  an  improper  word,  I  hadn't 
the  heart  to  chide  him  when  he  said :  "  Albert, 
don't  you  be  damn  fool  any  more ! "  And  he 
wasn't.  We  shot  through  scores  of  rapids  after- 
ward (including  the  Indian  Falls,  the  worst  that  I 
ever  saw  a  canoe  pass  through  and  live)  without  a 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING-.  167 

scratch.  Nothing  is  more  exciting,  because  noth- 
ing sane  men  ever  attempt  is  more  full  of  peril. 
If  the  king  who  offered  a  thousand  pounds  for  a 
new  sensation  could  have  been  induced  to  shoot 
one  of  these  Cascapedia  rapids,  he  would  have  had 
what  he  coveted. 


CHAPTEK  XXII. 

GOING     UP    THE   RIVER A   THUNDER     STORM OUR 

CHAMPION    MATCH-LIGHTER EARLY 

MORNING    FISHING. 

Sir,  you  have  angled  me  on  with  much  pleasure  to  the 
Thatched  House  ;  and  I  now  find  your  words  true,  that "  good 
company  makes  the  way  short ;"  for,  trust  me,  sir,  I  thought 
we  had  wanted  three  miles  of  this  house,  till  you  showed  it  to 
me.  But  now  we  are  at  it,  we'll  turn  into  it,  and  refresh  our- 
selves with  a  cup  of  drink,  and  a  little  rest.— [Sir  Izaak  Wal- 
ton. 


T  was  a  beautiful  summer  morning 
when  we  broke  camp  at  the 
"Shedden  Pool3'  to  visit  The 
Forks,  thirty  miles  distant.  The 
change  required  the  transporta- 
tion of  all  our  stores  and  camp 
equipage  —  ample  lading  for  two 
baggage  canoes,  besides  what 
could  be  carried  in  those  occu- 
pied by  the  fishermen  themselves. 
Our  fleet  of  six  boats  "  moved  off  in  gallant  style." 
Each  canoe  was  propelled  by  two  guides,  and  as 
they  glided  forward  in  "  Indian  file,"  to  the  steady 
music  of  their  iron -tipped  setting  poles,  the  sight 
was  quite  inspiriting  and  picturesque.  The  ascent 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  169 

of  the  rapids  was  abundantly  exciting,  not  only 
because  great  muscular  exertion  and  skill  were 
necessary  on  the  part  of  the  guides,  but  because  it 
was  often  a  matter  of  grave  doubt  whether  the 
ascent  could  possibly  be  made.  In  the  event  of  a 
failure,  either  from  the  force  of  the  current  or 
because  of  the  divergence  of  the  canoe  from  the 
proper  line,  nothing  could  prevent  the  frail  craft 
from  being  hurled  backward  amid  the  huge  bowl- 
ders which  render  the  ascent  or  descent  of  the 
rapids  always  perilous.  Accidents  from  either  of 
these  causes  seldom  happen;  but  there  are  occa- 
sional compulsory  retreats  and  unpleasant  upsets 
caused  by  the  breakage  or  loss  of  setting  poles  or 
paddles  at  the  most  critical  moment. 

Upon  one  occasion  my  canoe  had  just  surmounted 
a  dangerous  fall  and  was  moving  along  in  seeming 
security  against  the  swift  water  a  few  rods  above 
the  crest  of  the  rapids,  when  the  setting  poles  of 
both  my  guides  were  caught  in  the  clefts  of  the 
hidden  rocks  and  snatched  from  their  hands.  The 
canoe  was  thus  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  current.  An 
upset  seemed  inevitable,  and  I  instinctively  began 
to  disencumber  myself  for  a  cold  bath.  But  in  an 
instant  both  guides  seized  their  paddles,  and  by 
almost  superhuman  exertions  held  their  boat  in 
proper  line  until  it  fell  back  upon  the  canoe  in  the 
rear,  whose  guides  had  caught  up  the  floating  set- 
22 


1TO  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING-. 

ting  poles  and  restored  them  to  their  owners.  In 
the  two  minutes  all  this  occupied  there  was  concen- 
trated as  much  excitement  as  one  ordinarily  expe- 
riences in  a  twelvemonth  of  quiet  life.  When, 
under  the  assurance  of  safety,  the  reaction  came,  I 
found  myself  as  tremulous  as  if  I  had  been  wrest- 
ling with  an  athlete. 

Our  first  ten  miles  were  passed  without  any  other 
adventure.  But  we  were  doomed  to  encounter  one 
of  those  terrific  thunder  storms  which  are  only  met 
with  in  their  grand  and  magnificent  proportions  in 
mountainous  regions.  It  burst  upon  us  with  start- 
ling abruptness.  The  bright  shining  sun  was  sud- 
denly obscured  by  heavy  gray  clouds,  which  came 
flying  and  rolling  toward  us  as  if  propelled  by  a 
thousand  tornadoes.  These  were  followed  by  a 
troop  of  dense  clouds  black  as  night,  from  amid 
which  there  sounded  out  such  peals  of  thunder  as 
shook  the  huge  mountains  to  their  very  founda- 
tions, and  such  incessant,  sharp,  quick  lightning- 
flashes  as  "  struck  terror  to  the  soul "  of  the  most 
intrepid  among  us.  The  whole  heavens  were  ablaze, 
and  the  almost  midnight  darkness  which  had  thus 
unexpectedly  fallen  upon  us  was  lit  up  as  if  by  a 
limitless  conflagration.  And  then  were  opened 
upon  us  the  flood-gates  of  the  skies,  and  we  "  took 
to  the  woods."  The  grouping  of  the  drenched 
crowd  as  they  sought  shelter  from  the  liquid  ava- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  171 

lanche  was  sufficiently  ludicrous  to  excite  boisterous 
merriment  in  spite  of  the  bellowing  thunder  and 
the  dazzling  lightning,  which  rendered  the  roar  and 
flash  of  ten  thousand  cannon  the  mere  crackling  of 
baby  torpedoes.  It  was  a  grandly  terrific  spectacle, 
which  amply  compensated  us  for  the  delay  and 
drenching  which  it  brought  to  us. 

We  had  hoped  to  make  at  least  half  our  journey 
of  thirty  miles  before  night-fall.  But  the  storm 
thwarted  us,  and  the  General  cried  "  halt "  when 
the  twelve-mile  land-mark  was  reached. 

To  those  fond  of  it,  camp-life,  at  its  worst,  has 
but  few  discomforts ;  but  among  these  few  none 
are  more  unpleasant  than  dripping  leaves  and  sat- 
urated surroundings.  After  such  a  storm  every- 
thing you  touch  is  wet.  The  first  thing  coveted  is, 
of  course,  a  fire.  But  to  find  available  material 
requires  time  and  patient  searching.  And  when 
found,  where  is  the  dry  spot  upon  which  to  ignite 
a  lucif  er  ?  In  our  party  we  had  an  expert  to  whom 
wind  and  weather  had  always  hitherto  presented 
no  obstacle  to  the  delicate  manipulation  required. 
Under  the  most  adverse  circumstances,  it  seemed 
only  necessary  for  him  to  strike  a  well-defined  atti- 
tude to  secure  the  desired  result.  But  upon  this 
occasion  the  magic  seat  of  his  power  had  so  gathered 
dampness  that  he  scratched  in  vain,  scratched  he 
never  so  deftly ;  and  when  he  found  himself  no 


172  PLEASURES   OF    ANGLING. 

longer  "  master  of  the  situation,"  he  was  as  indig- 
nant as  was  Balaam  when  his  poor  beast  refused  to 
do  his  bidding. 

But  the  perplexities  of  fire-kindling  in  the  woods 
after  a  rain  storm,  like  other  human  ills,  always 
have  an  ending.  Yery  soon  a  glowing  log-heap 
rendered  our  selected  camping  ground  home-like 
and  comfortable.  The  tents  were  pitched,  the  sur- 
roundings were  speedily  brought  into  ship-shape, 
a  bountiful  supper  was  prepared  and  eaten  with  a 
relish,  the  moon  and  the  stars  shone  out  resplen- 
dently,  and  after  two  or  three  hours  of  mingled 
sedate  and  merry  conversation,  stillness  reigned 
supreme  over  the  camp  of  a  quartette  of  weary  but 
happy  anglers. 

The  morning  after  the  tempest  was  all  that  heart 
could  wish.  The  huge  fire  built  in  the  centre  of 
the  camp  had  been  kept  in  full  blaze  during  the 
night,  and  dispersed  every  vestige  of  moisture 
within  camp  range  long  before  any  one  not  obliged 
to  be  moving  cared  to  leave  his  comfortable  couch. 
We  had  grown  into  the  habit  of  taking  things  lei- 
surely and  were  unwilling  to  break  over  a  very- 
pleasant  custom  simply  because,  by  being  tardy, 
we  might  fail  to  reach  our  destination  before  night- 
fall. I  know  that  those  who  act  upon  the  "  early 
bird"  theory  may  deem  this  confession  deroga- 
tory to  the  character  of  zealous  anglers.  But  I  long 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  173 

ago  abandoned  the  habit  of  fishing  before  break- 
fast, under  the  fallacious  idea  that  neither  trout  nor 
salmon  are  ever  so  voracious  as  during  the  very 
early  hours  of  the  very  early  morning.  A  trout 
or  salmon  pool  will  yield  just  as  handsome  returns 
between  the  hours  of  eight  and  ten  as  between 
the  hours  of  five  and  seven,  if  it  remains  undis- 
turbed. A  great  many  experts  will  probably  dis- 
pute this  statement ;  but  if  they  will  experiment 
as  long  and  as  faithfully  as  I  have,  they  will  agree 
with  me,  and  by  acting  upon  the  discovery  they 
will  find  themselves  happier  if  not  better  men  by 
contentedly  enjoying  their  morning  rest  rather 
than  encountering  the  raw  morning  air  in  their 
haste  to  secure  the  fish  which  would  just  as  will- 
ingly and  as  surely  come  to  them  after  breakfast. 
In  making  the  twenty  odd  miles  which  inter- 
vened between  our  extemporised  camp  and  "  The 
Forks,"  we  encountered  at  least  a  dozen  rapids 
which  it  seemed  impossible  that  our  canoemen 
could  surmount.  North  "Woods  guides,  with  all 
their  skill  and  intrepidity,  would  deem  it  absolutely 
necessary  to  "  carry  round  "  these  formidable  ob- 
stacles. And,  with  their  boats,  they  would  be 
obliged  to  do  so.  But  these  bark  canoes  seem  just 
adapted  to  overcome  these  tumultuous  waters.  It 
is  hard  work,  and  requires  a  quick  eye,  a  steady 
hand,  a  firm  foot,  and  a  wonderfully  nice  appre- 


174  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLLNG. 

elation  of  the  flow  and  force  of  the  currents ;  but 
nothing  seems  so  difficult  as  the  exact  balance 
they  preserve  during  these  great  muscular  exer- 
tions. They  constantly  change  their  setting  poles 
from  side  to  side  and  half  face  about  with  every 
change ;  but  in  doing  so  they  preserve  a  perfect 
poise,  not  casting  an  ounce  of  improper  weight 
upon  either  side  while  making  these  rapid  changes. 
A  novice,  whatever  props  he  might  call  to  his 
aid,  would  find  it  impossible  to  maintain  his 
equilibrium  while  passing  either  up  or  down  these 
boiling  cauldrons.  But  to  lose  his  balance  is  the 
last  thing  to  be  apprehended  from  an  expert  canoe- 
man.  He  has  this  art  perfectly  —  acquired  by  long 
years  of  constant  practice. 

Indian  Falls  is  by  far  the  most  threatening  rapid 
on  the  river,  and  is  the  only  one  where  anglers 
are  expected  to  disembark  in  ascending.  The 
canoes,  however,  are  always  polled  up  and  it  is 
very  seldom  that  any  accident  happens.  The  des- 
cent is  even  more  difficult,  and  prudent  voyageurs 
take  to  terra  firma  rather  than  run  the  gauntlet  of 
the  numerous  bowlders  which  dot  the  channel 
from  summit  to  base.  Only  one  of  our  party,  how- 
ever, had  the  good  sense  to  "  take  to  the  woods  " 
for  half  a  mile  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  a  cold 
bath  or  something  worse,  by  rushing  down  the 
fearfully  turbulent  waterway.  It  so  happened 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  175 

that  no  harm  befell  his  companions ;  but  in  making 
the  detour  he  failed  to  share  in  the  most  exciting 
incident  of  the  excursion.  I  have  often  passed  the 
famous  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  That  is  an 
incident  to  be  remembered  and  talked  about  for  a 
life-time.  But  that  passage  is  monotonous  com- 
pared with  shooting  the  rapids  of  Indian  Falls  in 
a  bark  canoe. 

The  river  between  the  Falls  and  the  Forks  — 
nine  miles  —  is  comparatively  still  water,  the  cur- 
rent not  averaging  more  than  five  or  six  miles  an 
hour.  The  sail  is  delightful,  and  we  enjoyed  it  to 
the  full,  reaching  our  destination  just  at  night- 
fall. But  it  was  midnight  before  any  one  was 
disposed  to  withdraw  himself  from  the  camp-fire, 
whose  ruddy  glow  gave  piquancy  and  breadth  to 
the  ceaseless  flow  of  wit  and  wisdom  which  found 
ready  utterance  during  these  always  pleasant  even- 
ing hours  on  the  banks  of  the  "  fair  Cascapedia," 
the  melody  of  whose  singing  waters  never  failed 
to  quickly  woo  us  to  refreshing  slumbers. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

GRAND    SPORT   AT   THE   FOEK8 LEAPING    SALMON  — 

TORCH-LIGHT    SURVEY    OF   THE    POOLS. 

And  yf  it  fortune  you  to  fmyt  a  gret  fyfh  with  a  fmall  har- 
nays  thenne  ye  muft  lede  hym  in  the  water  and  labour  hym 
there  tyll  he  be  drounyd  and  overcome.  Thenne  take  hym 
as  well  as  ye  can  or  maye,  and  euer  be  waar  that  ye  holde 
not  ouer  the  frengthe  of  your  lyne,  and  as  moche  as  ye  may, 
lete  hym  not  come  out  of  your  lyne's  ende  ftreyghte  from 
you:  but  kepe  hym  euer  vnder  the  rodde  and  euermore  hold 
hym  ftreyghte  :  foo  that  your  lyne  may  be  fufteyne,  and  beere 
his  lepys  and  his  plungys  wyth  the  helpe  of  your  cropp,  and 
of  your  honde. — [  Treatyfe  of  Fyfjhynge  wyth  an  Angle,  1496. 

The  clouds  are  silver  in  an  azure  sky  ; 

The  hills  lie  basking  in  a  sunny  dream  ; 
The  lapping  water  coolly  gurgles  by 

Where  lies  the  fallen  trunk  athwart  the  stream. 


first  visited  these  upper  waters  of 
the  Cascapedia  last  season.  Our 
camp  is  fifty  miles  from  the  sea, 
and  is  "beautiful  for  situation." 
The  spot  chosen  is  a  sort  of  pen- 
insula, furnishing  a  fine  view  of 
the  river  and  of  the  highest  of 
the  surrounding  mountains.  Our 
tents  are  pitched  in  the  midst  of 
a  grove  of  young  pines,  whose 
shade  is  ample  at  all  hours.  The  summer  breeze 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  177 

has  an  unobstructed  sweep  from  three  directions, 
and  nothing  is  lacking  in  tent  or  larder  to  render 
our  temporary  resting  place  an  angler's  elysium. 

The  early  hours  of  our  first  day  were  full  of 
forest  music.  An  occasional  bird  whistled  out  his 
morning  orisons.  The  murmur  of  the  running 
water  was  pleasant  to  the  ear,  and  the  splash  of 
the  leaping  salmon  could  be  heard  distinctly  above 
the  monotonous  sough  of  the  pines  as  they  were 
waved  to  and  fro  by  the  balmy  breath  of  the 
cloudless  morning.  What  we  knew  of  these  pools 
rendered  us  impatient  to  test  them,  and  much  ear- 
lier than  usual  we  were  busy  adjusting  our  rods 
and  reels  for  the  fray.  To  the  curiosity  which 
always  accompanies  the  opportunity  to  cast  in  new 
waters  was  superadded  the  excitement  caused  by 
the  salmon  quadrille  in  full  play  within  short  pis 
tol  range  of  the  camp.  Every  leap  seemed  a  chal- 
lenge, and  gave  promise  of  grander  sport  than  we 
had  yet  experienced. 

There  was  a  good  pool  for  each  of  us,  and  each 
proceeded  in  his  own  way  to  make  the  best  use  of 
his  rare  opportunity.  The  General  had  the  first 
rise.  All  the  signs  indicated  that  he  was  fast  to  a 
fish  of  unusual  weight.  The  initiatory  rush  and 
leap  were  prodigious,  taking  out  nearly  every  foot 
of  line  and  compelling  a  rapid  forward  movement 
23 


178  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

of  the  canoe  to  prevent  mischief.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments the  General  was  able  to  step  out  upon  the 
pebbly  beach,  where  he  fancied  he  could  the  more 
successfully  curb  and  capture  his  prey.  For  a 
while  it  looked  as  if  he  was  about  to  demonstrate 
the  soundness  of  his  theory  that  a  salmon  fisher 
should  always  take  to  the  beach  where  practicable, 
as  soon  as  possible  after  he  has  hooked  his  fish. 
The  tussle  was  severe  and  protracted.  The  fish 
was  a  stubborn  brute,  always  doing  just  the  very 
thing  it  was  hoped  he  would  not  do  —  rushing  and 
leaping  and  sulking  in  such  eccentric  and  perverse 
ways  as  to  keep  his  captor  moving  backward  and 
forward  like  a  wearied  sentinel  at  his  post.  If  the 
fish  continued  to  thus  turn  upon  his  own  tracks 
long  enough,  his  capture,  sooner  or  later,  would  be 
reasonably  sure.  But  nothing  is  more  uncertain 
than  the  movements  of  a  hooked  salmon,  and  those 
of  us  who  had  ceased  fishing  to  witness  the  battle 
were  not  surprised  when  this  lusty  rascal  made  a 
dash  down  stream  which  soon  brought  the  General 
to  the  end  of  his  walk,  and  compelled  him  to  take 
to  his  canoe  to  prevent  the  fish  from  making  his 
escape ;  for  you  might  as  well  try  to  hold  a  two-year 
old  colt  with  a  cotton  thread  as  a  rushing  thirty- 
pound  salmon  by  a  direct  pull  on  an  exhausted  line. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  always  stick  to  my  canoe 
during  such  a  contest.  You  are  better  able  to  fol- 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING.          179 

low  where  your  fish  leads.  It  would  of  course  be 
different  if  wading  were  possible,  but  the  water 
is  generally  too  deep  for  that  sort  of  fishing — alto- 
gether the  most  artistic  and  fascinating  where 
practicable.  As  the  General  could  not  wade,  he 
was  forced  to  take  to  his  canoe,  which  he  did  with 
great  promptness  and  dexterity,  but  not  an  instant 
too  soon.  A  delay  of  the  twentieth  part  of  a  min- 
ute would  have  left  him  fishless  and  mortified. 
When  thus  again  master  of  the  situation,  the  con- 
test was  resumed  by  both  parties  with  great  vigor. 
No  angler  since  the  days  of  Nimrod  ever  played  a 
fish  more  skillfully,  or  more  fully  enjoyed  the  exer- 
cise ;  but  it  was  not  until  after  a  two  hours'  fight, 
extending  over  a  distance  of  more  than  a  mile,  that 
he  was  brought  to  gaff.  He  weighed  thirty-four 
pounds,  and  was  the  harbinger  of  many  others  like 
him  captured  in  these  pools  during  the  period  we 
remained  at  the  Forks. 

I  repeated  a  hundred  times  during  my  first  day 
here  what  the  poet  says  of  those  athirst  in  mid- 
ocean  :  "  Water,  water  every  where,  but  not  a  drop 
to  drink."  The  cause  of  this  despairing  cry  on  my 
part  arose  from  the  fact  that  while  salmon  were 
leaping  all  around  me  I  could  not,  by  any  art  or 
cunning  at  my  command,  lure  one  to  my  fly.  At 
least  twenty  large  fish  were  thus  disporting  them- 
selves within  easy  cast,  but  no  change  of  fly  and 


180  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

no  sleight  in  casting  was  of  the  least  avail.  They 
seemed  impelled  by  mere  exuberance  of  spirits. 
Sometimes  I  could  see  insects  moving  about  in  their 
neighborhood ;  but  ofterier  nothing  whatever  ap- 
peared to  justify  or  excuse  their  tantalizing  f riski- 
ness. The  novel  spectacle,  however,  was  entertain- 
ing, and  was  kept  up  for  several  hours  without 
intermission.  It  is  possible  that  some  sort  of  fly 
would  have  lured  them,  but  as  nothing  I  had 
proved  a  success,  I  could  only  watch  and  wait.  I 
tried  to  "  jig  "  them  —  that  is,  to  strike  them  with 
my  hook  while  they  were  leaping,  but  I  only  suc- 
ceeded in  scratching  the  side  of  one  of  them  as  he 
was  returning  to  his  native  element.  This  tanta- 
lizing sport  continued  so  long  that  I  had  become 
weary  of  it,  and  I  was  ready  to  retire  when  one  of 
the  "  gay  gamboliers  "  took  compassion  upon  me, 
and  struck  at  my  fly  with  such  spirit  as  convinced 
me  that  I  had  some  lively  work  before  me.  He 
was  evidently  quite  as  much  surprised  and  startled 
as  I  was  when  he  found  himself  under  arrest.  For 
when  he  first  felt  the  sting  of  the  hook  he  held 
himself  as  motionless  as  a  log,  as  if  cogitating  upon 
the  probable  cause  of  the  new  sensation.  But  his 
cogitations  were  of  short  duration.  Before  I  had 
time  to  up  anchor  and  get  properly  braced  for  the 
encounter,  he  concluded  to  "  go,"  which  he  did  in 
the  handsomest  manner  possible.  He  confined 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  181 

himself,  however,  to  the  pool,  shooting  back  and 
forth  with  a  rapidity  and  frequency  which  rendered 
it  very  difficult  to  keep  a  taut  line  upon  him.  I 
supposed,  of  course,  that  the  disturbance  would  put 
a  stop  to  the  leaping  which  had  been  in  progress 
through  the  entire  morning.  But  it  did  nothing 
of  the  kind.  While  I  was  busy  with  my  fish  others 
were  as  busy  jumping  as  before,  and  they  continued 
to  jump,  often  within  a  few  feet  of  my  canoe,  dur- 
ing the  whole  of  the  protracted  struggle.  After  a 
half  hour's  sulking,  and  a  few  vigorous  attempts 
to  break  loose,  he  quietly  succumbed.  He  was  of 
medium  weight  —  eighteen  pounds  —  but  he  was 
only  the  forerunner  of  two  others  of  more  stately 
proportions  that  were  brought  to  gaff  before  the 
going  down  of  the  sun. 

The  pool  directly  at  the  Forks  —  the  intersection 
of  the  "  salmon  "  and  the  "  lake  "  branches  of  the 
river  —  should,  from  its  position,  be  the  very  best 
between  tide-water  and  the  Falls.  But  it  is  not, 
probably  because  the  pool  itself  changes  with  every 
spring  freshet.  Three  of  us  had  tried  it  faithfully 
in  vain,  and  voted  it  barren,  when  DUN  demon- 
strated his  superior  skill  or  luck  by  taking  four  fine 
fish  from  it  after  all  the  rest  of  us  had  utterly  failed. 
It  was  neither  the  first  nor  the  last  time  that  his 
unwearied  patience  had  its  reward  ;  and  it  was  his 
patience  quite  as  much  as  his  skill  which  enabled 


182  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

him  to  generally  lead  all  of  us  in  the  count.  An 
essay  on  the  advantages  of  this  virtue,  in  every 
department  of  life,  would  be  appropriate  just  here. 
But  it  would  be  a  work  of  supererogation  so  far  as 
my  readers  are  concerned ;  for  those  who  have  fol- 
lowed me  thus  far  through  these  rambling  notes 
must  possess  the  virtue  in  superabundance. 

We  had  studied  salmon  pools  in  all  their  aspects, 
externally  —  their  surroundings,  their  apparent 
depths,  their  currents,  their  counter-currents,  their 
eddies  and  the  particular  spots  within  their  circum- 
ference where  salmon  would  be  most  likely  to  con- 
gregate. But  we  had  never  been  able  to  peer  down 
into  their  hidden  depths  to  see  the  fish  in  their 
favorite  haunts.  To  be  sure,  in  passing  up  and 
down  the  river,  now  and  then  one  would  cross  the 
vision  like  a  silver  ray.  But,  as  a  rule,  they  never 
came  into  view,  even  where  we  knew  they  lay  in 
great  numbers  within  easy  cast.  During  the  day 
they  were  hidden  by  the  ripples  caused  by  the  cur- 
rents and  by  the  dark  depths  of  the  water,  as  se- 
curely as  if  they  were  "  in  the  deep  bosom  of  the 
ocean  buried."  There  was  but  one  mode  by  which 
we  could  obtain  the  view  we  coveted,  to  wit :  by 
the  use  of  the  flambeaux,  which  the  Indians  use  in 
their  night-spearing  forays,  and  by  which,  properly 
placed  in  the  canoe,  the  water,  to  its  lowest  depths, 
becomes  perfectly  illuminated,  and  every  object,  to 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  183 

the  tiniest  pebble,  is  as  clearly  revealed  as  if  it  lay 
in  the  palm  of  your  hand.  But  the  use  of  the  flam- 
beaux is  strictly  prohibited  by  the  laws  of  the  realm. 
Aware  of  this,  we  took  the  precaution  on  coming 
in  to  secure  a  permit  from  the  Warden  to  make  a 
survey  of  the  pools  by  torchlight,  under  pledge 
that  we  would  destroy  no  fish  during  the  process. 
As  our  object  was  simply  to  see  the  fish  in  their 
native  element,  and  perhaps  thereby  learn  some- 
thing of  their  habits,  we  cheerfully  gave  the  pledge 
and  honestly  intended  to  keep  it. 

The  night  chosen  for  this  novel  excursion  was 
the  last  of  our  sojourn  at  the  Forks.  It  was  pitch- 
dark,  and  when  our  six  canoes  put  out  in  Indian 
file,  illuminated  by  a  dozen  flambeaux,  the  spectacle 
was  exceedingly  picturesque.  The  dense  forest 
loomed  up  grandly  in  its  impenetrable  vastness. 
The  surface  of  the  river  seemed  a  bed  of  molten 
silver,  and  the  Indians,  as  they  stood  up  with  set- 
ting pole  or  paddle,  looked  weird  and  ghost-like. 
Starting  from  the  upper  pool,  we  floated  down 
more  than  a  mile,  salmon  at  every  step  showing 
themselves,  shooting  hither  and  thither,  aroused 
from  their  repose  by  the  unusual  spectacle.  Scores 
of  fish  were  seen  in  pools  where  we  had  cast  in 
vain;  and  even  in  shallow,  swift  water,  where  we 
never  thought  of  casting,  they  appeared  in  large 
numbers.  So  long,  however,  as  we  continued  to 


184  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

\ 

float  with  the  current,  the  view  was  unsatisfactory, 
except  in  revealing  an  abundance  of  fish.  We  could 
get  no  quiet  look  at  them ;  they  appeared  and 
disappeared  like  a  flash.  We,  however,  had  as 
favorable  an  opportunity  as  we  could  desire  when 
we  passed  into  the  still  water  of  "  Lazy  Bogan  " — 
a  bayou  at  the  head  of  the  very  best  pool  on  the 
river.  This  bayou  is  full  of  deep  holes,  with  clear 
sandy  bottom.  Each  of  these  still  pools  was  filled 
with  salmon,  and  as  we  held  our  boat  above  them, 
we  could  see  them  perfectly,  gracefully  moving 
about  and  with  such  deliberation  as  to  afford  us 
just  the  view  we  desired.  We  saw  in  this  still 
water,  where  they  are  not  supposed  to  ordinarily 
resort,  at  least  fifty,  of  all  sizes,  ranging  from  ten 
to  forty  or  fifty  pounds.  It  was  a  sight  worth  a 
journey  hither,  and  it  will  never  be  forgotten. 

I  said  we  gave  our  pledge  that  no  fish  should 
be  killed  during  our  survey.  In  starting  out  we 
peremptorily  enjoined  our  guides  not  to  strike 
at  the  fish,  under  penalty  of  our  gravest  dis- 
pleasure ;  and  they  promised.  But  they  did  not 
keep  their  promise.  The  moment  the  schools  of 
fish  appeared  they  became  wTild  with  excitement, 
and,  in  spite  of  our  constant  reminders,  they 
would  strike  out  with  gaff  and  pike-pole  in  a  per- 
fect frenzy  of  delight.  They  kept  up  a  constant 
shout  of  "  There  they  go !  " '  "  Salmon ! "  "  See 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  185 

there !  "  "  Look  !  Look ! "  accompanying  every 
cry  with  a  thrust  of  their  pike-pole  or  paddle, 
as  if  they  were  the  spears  with  which,  before 
the  laws  interposed,  they  were  wont  to  fill  their 
canoes  during  their  night  forays.  Fortunately, 
only  two  fish  were  hit  —  one  with  a  pike-pole, 
thrown  out  as  a  spear,  and  another  scooped  up  with 
a  gaff  while  boat  and  fish  were  both  in  rapid  mo- 
tion. This  latter  achievement  was  hailed  with 
shouts  of  delight  by  all  the  Indians,  and  Jack,  by 
whom  the  extraordinary  feat  was  performed,  held 
the  struggling  fish  high  above  his  head,  while  thus 
impaled,  exclaiming  as  he  did  so :  "  Ah !  ha !  what 
you  say  now  U  who  the  best  gaffer,  eh  ?  what  Indian 
can  beat  that,  eh  ? "  ]STo  champion  of  the  ring  ever 
manifested  greater  delight  when  awarded  the  belt 
than  did  Jack  when  he  gaffed  this  salmon  on  the 
wing.  "We  were  mortified  and  angered,  of  course, 
that  our  peremptory  orders  had  been,  in  these  two 
cases,  disobeyed ;  but  we  could  not  but  admire  Jack's 
skill,  and  enjoy  the  exhibition  of  Indian  character 
which  found  expression  during  this  exciting  and 
never-to-be-forgotten  flambeaux  visit  to  the  salmon 
pools  of  the  Cascapedia. 

It  is  only  proper  to  say  that  we  reported  this 
illegitimate  killing  of  two  salmon  to  the  Warden 
on  our  return,  explaining  the  circumstances  and 
expressing  our  mortification  and  regret.  We  prof- 

24 


186          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

fered  every  reparation  in  our  power,  in  the  way  of 
humble  apology  or  pecuniary  penalty,  but  we  had 
not  the  heart  to  name  the  real  delinquents ;  for  we 
could  not  but  believe  that  they  were  so  beside 
themselves  with  excitement  that  they  could  not 
have  been  restrained  by  any  authority.  The  Ward- 
en, of  course,  admonished  us,  as  was  his  duty,  but 
kindly  consented  to  overlook  the  delinquency  in 
view  of  the  frankness  of  our  confession  and  the 
circumstances  under  which  the  delinquency  oc- 
curred. 


CHAPTEK  XXIV. 

A    BEAR   CHASE A    GOLD    HUNTER TACKLING   FOR 

SALMON   FISHING. 

I  had  a  glimpse  of  him,  but  he  shot  by  me 
Like  a  young  hound  upon  a  burning  scent. 

—  [Dryden. 

Know'st  thou  not  any  whom  corrupting  gold 
Would  tempt  into  a  close  exploit  of  death? 

—  \Shakspeare. 


EER  were  at  one  time  very  abun- 
dant in  this  region,  but  merciless 
hunting  at  all  seasons  has  either 
extinguished  or  driven  them  to 
other  feeding-grounds  less  acces- 
sible to  their  inhuman  enemies. 
It  is,  however,  the  Bears'  paradise. 
They  seem  to  have  a  penchant  for 
the  sheepf olds  lying  on  forest  bor- 
ders. Every  farmer  considers  a 
bear-trap  as  necessary  as  a  plow,  and  captures  are 
frequent. 

Our  first  camp  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  sev- 
eral farms  where  bruin  had  marauded  successfully. 
DUN,  being  the  most  ambitious  hunter  in  the 
party,  was  in  constant  expectation  of  an  opportu- 


188  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

nity  to  prove  himself  as  skillful  with  the  rifle  as 
with  the  rod.  In  the  pursuit  of  minor  game  he 
had  found  "a  foeman  worthy  of  his  steel"  in 
Judge  FULLERTON,  whose  eye  is  as  keen  as  his  wit, 
and  who  bags  his  game  as  expertly  as  he  extracts 
truth  from  a  reluctant  witness.  The  two  were  well 
matched.  Some  of  their  contests  for  the  cham- 
pionship "  astonished  the  natives,"  and  would  have 
secured  them  backers  for  the  proposed  interna- 
tional "  shoot "  at  the  Centennial.  Both  of  them 
had  "  slain  their  thousands  "  of  every  living  thing, 
from  chipmunk  to  deer,  but  neither  had  ever 
fleshed  his  maiden  bullet  in  a  bear.  Both  hoped 
and  waited ;  but  DUN  had  the  advantage  in  that 
he  was  the  owner  of  the  only  rifle  in  camp,  and 
made  it  his  constant  companion. 

He  had  begun  to  despair  of  a  chance  to  bring  a 
bruin  to  book,  when,  while  quietly  enjoying  his 
after-dinner  pipe,  a  tiny  dug-out  was  seen  gliding 
rapidly  across  the  river  from  the  farm-house  di- 
rectly opposite,  its  occupant  shouting  lustily,  "  A 
bear !  a  bear ! "  This  was  the  signal  DUN  long 
had  waited  for,  but  feared  he'd  die  without  the 
sound.  The  effect  upon  him,  as  upon  all  of  us, 
was  electrical.  In  an  instant  he  was  in  the  dug- 
out, accompanied  by  myself  as  his  henchman. 

The  moment  we  struck  the  shore  our  excited 
guide  led  off  on  the  trail  with  a  speed  which  would 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  189 

have  been  creditable  in  a  retreat,  but  which  was 
bad  generalship  in  an  advance  upon  such  an  enemy. 
The  foolish  fellow  did  not  seem  to  understand  that 
his  followers  had  neither  his  wind  nor  his  muscle, 
and  that,  without  a  little  practice,  it  was  quite  im- 
possible to  ascend  a  precipitous  mountain-side  at  a 
two-forty  pace,  even  though  a  bear's  scalp  might 
be  the  prize  awaiting  us  at  the  end  of  the  race. 
We  had  run  four  or  five  hundred  yards  at  our  best 
speed,  when  our  guide,  far  in  advance  of  us,  yelled 
out,  "  Here  he  is  1  here  he  is ! "  in  such  thunder- 
tones  as  would  have  "  struck  terror  to  the  souls  " 
of  a  thousand  bears,  had  they  been  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. The  cry,  however,  was  inspiriting. 
Although  DUN  was  already  "blowed,"  the  her- 
alded proximity  of  the  enemy  gave  him  new  life, 
and  he  scrambled  forward,  rifle  in  hand,  with  an 
energy  which  lifted  him  in  my  estimation  to  the 
dignity  of  an  exhaustless  wind  instrument.  For 
myself,  I  could  only  lie  down  and  pant.  On  sped 
DUN,  however,  like  an  Indian  runner,  determined 
to  have  that  bear's  hide  or  die  for  it.  But  luck 
was  against  him.  As  the  guide  yelled  out,  "  There 
he  goes ! "  I  saw  the  beast  rise  the  brow  of  the 
hill  and  scamper  out  of  sight,  unscathed.  But  my 
discomfitted  friend  had  had  "  a  good  drive  out  of 
him,"  and  but  for  the  stupidity  of  the  excited 
bumpkin,  he  could  have  achieved  his  life's  ambi- 


190  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

tion.  It  only  required  a  cautious  approach;  for 
at  the  first  alarm,  the  bear  was  quietly  feeding  upon 
the  carcass  of  a  sheep,  and  would  have  continued 
his  repast  until  gorged,  had  he  not  been  disturbed. 

Moose  are  still  numerous,  but  at  this  season  are 
generally  far  back  in  the  mountains.  An  occa- 
sional straggler,  however,  finds  his  way  into  the 
valleys.  Their  tracks  are  seen  everywhere  along 
the  river,  but  it  was  our  fortune  (last  year)  to  see 
but  one  in  motion.  He  was  fording  the  river  two 
or  three  hundred  yards  below  our  camp  at  the 
Forks,  and  but  for  the  tumult  made  by  our  excited 
Indian  guides,  he  could  have  been  bagged.  As  it 
was,  he  escaped,  a  rifie  ball  following  him  at  ran- 
dom as  he  passed  into  the  woods.  He  was  about 
the  size,  color  and  shape  of  a  Jersey  cow. 

Moose,  like  deer,  have  been  hunted  unmerci- 
fully, and  are  by  no  means  as  plentiful  as  they 
were  twenty  years  ago,  when  it  was  an  easy  matter 
to  kill  a  dozen  in  a  week  within  ten  miles  of  our 
present  encampment.  Their  threatened  extermi- 
nation induced  the  enactment  of  very  stringent 
laws  for  their  protection;  and  as  such  laws  are 
more  respected  here  than  by  the  "  free  and  inde- 
pendent electors"  on  our  own  borders,  within  a 
few  years  moose,  like  salmon,  will  be  as  plenty  as 
in  their  palmiest  days. 

Of  small  game,  duck  are  most  abundant.     In 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  191 

passing  up  and  down  the  river,  you  intercept  broods 
at  every  turn.  The  cunning  shown  by  the  mother 
bird  in  its  efforts  to  divert  attention  from  her  young 
is  an  interesting  study.  The  maternal  instinct  is 
quite  as  strongly  illustrated  in  them  as  in  any 
other  game-bird  known  to  the  sportsman. 

The  monotony  of  our  camp  was  one  day  broken 
by  a  visit  from  a  gold  seeker,  who  had  faith  in  an 
Indian  tradition  of  "  a  mountain  of  gold  "  near  the 
head-waters  of  this  river.  The  story  goes  that  some 
fifty  years  back  an  old  Indian  came  into  the  settle- 
ment with  several  heavy  lumps  of  the  precious 
metal  which  he  exhibited  to  a  trader  as  specimens 
of  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  "the  same  sort," 
available  to  any  one  who  would  take  the  trouble  to 
dig  for  it.  The  trader  pronounced  the  specimens 
worthless,  but  succeeded  in  getting  possession  of 
them  nevertheless.  In  his  cupidity,  however,  he 
refused  to  return  the  Indian  an  equivalent  for  his 
prize;  and,  in  revenge,  the  red  man  refused  to 
reveal  the  locality  of  the  placer,  and  as  he  died  one 
day,  the  secret  died  with  him.  It  was  said,  how- 
ever, that  when  beside  himself  with  the  "  fire-water  " 
of  the  white  man,  he  so  far  indicated  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  hidden  treasure  as  to  induce,  twenty- 
five  years  ago,  a  company  of  credulous  white  men 
to  search  for  it.  Our  present  visitor,  then  quite 
young,  was  one  of  the  party.  They  discovered 


192  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

signs  of  gold,  they  thought,  and  glittering  particles 
that  looked  like  gold,  but  they  had  only  "their 
labor  for  their  pains."  Since  then  this  young  man 
had  been  in  California  and  had  acquired  an  expe- 
rience which  he  believed  would  render  his  present 
search  a  success.  He  had  chemicals  with  him  to 
test  the  "  golden  sands "  of  this  new  El  Dorado, 
and  he  pushed  on,  full  of  high  expectations.  But, 
alas!  for  the  mutability  of  all  human  hopes,  he 
returned  in  six  days  a  disappointed  man.  He  suc- 
ceeded, he  said,  in  getting  within  five  miles  of  the 
golden  mountain,  but  his  high-heeled  boots  behaved 
so  badly  that  he  could  not  prosecute  his  search ! 
The  Indians  who  accompanied  him  said  he  became 
frightened.  But,  however  that  may  be,  he  certainly 
failed,  and  had  his  journey  from  the  far  West  to 
the  head-waters  of  the  Cascapedia  for  nothing.  He 
returned,  like  many  another  gold-seeker,  the  victim 
of  misplaced  confidence.  There  are  those  who  still 
have  faith  in  this  old  tradition,  and  the  search  will 
be  kept  up  so  long  as  unreasoning  credulity  remains 
to  vex  the  race. 

Before  "  reeling  up  "  these  disjointed  and  weari- 
some notes,  as  I  shall  do  very  soon,  it  may  not 
be  deemed  out  of  place  to  proffer  just  a  word 
of  counsel  to  those  who  may,  at  some  not  distant 
day  in  the  golden  future,  have  the  happiness  to 
"  go-a-fishing,"  if  not  in  the  Cascapedia,  in  some 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  193 

other  of  the  multitude  of  rivers  where  salmon 
gather. 

Happy  beyond  his  fellows  is  the  angler  who  has 
the  skill  to  "  fix  up "  his  own  tackling,  to  tie  his 
own  flies,  to  properly  adjust  his  own  reels,  to  make 
up  his  own  leaders,  and  to  do  whatever  else  is 
necessary  to  be  done  to  render  him  superior  to 
calamity  and  independent  of  all  ordinary  mishaps. 
It  took  me  many  years  to  acquire  this  skill  and 
more  years  to  command  the  leisure  to  render  it 
available.  But  even  now,  I  am  often  obliged  to 
call  in  the  aid  of  experts  to  do  for  me  what  (if  I 
could)  I  would  find  great  pleasure  in  doing  for 
myself.  The  finest  salmon-flies  I  ever  saw  were 
made  by  our  recent  townsman,  DEAN  SAGE  —  an 
expert  in  all  the  intricacies  of  the  art,  and  the 
possessor  of  all  the  high  qualities  and  gentle  vir- 
tues of  the  noble  guild  of  anglers.  Judge  FULLER- 
TON,  of  our  party,  also  possesses  this  desirable  gift 
of  deftness  in  large  measure.  If  he  had  turned 
his  attention  to  mechanics  instead  of  the  law,  he 
would  have  become  quite  as  eminent  as  an  artisan 
as  he  now  is  in  the  profession  he  adorns. 

My  experience  of  last  year,  or  rather  the  expe- 
rience of  others  —  for  I  was  unusually  exempt  from 
accidents  —  taught  me  that  it  is  never  safe,  where 
the  fish  sometimes  reach  the  weight  of  forty  pounds,, 
to  rely  upon  a  single  rod,  line  or  reel,  however 
25 


194:  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

excellent.  They  should  always  be  held  in  dupli- 
cate. One  is  apt  to  be  over-timid  who  has  nothing 
to  fall  back  upon  in  case  of  breakage  ;  and  nothing 
is  more  fatal  to  success  and  nothing  more  unplea- 
sant than  the  constant  fear  that  an  extra  pressure 
may  snap  things  and  exhaust  one's  resources.  The 
best  of  tackling  and  plenty  of  it  is  the  only  safe 
rule.  If,  as  in  my  case,  no  breakage  happens,  you 
will  still  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  you 
are  prepared  for  the  worst.  My  rod  and  line  of 
last  year  served  me  through  this,  although  my  three 
hours  and  twenty  minutes  fight  with  my  last  fish 
caused  such  a  perceptible  weakening  of  one  joint 
of  my  rod  as  to  indicate  that  a  few  more  such 
struggles  would  cause  a  rupture.  I  would  sincerely 
regret  such  a  calamity,  for,  by  the  verdict  of  every 
expert  who  has  handled  it,  as  well  as  by  the  verdict 
of  my  own  experience,  a  better  salmon-rod,  in 
strength  and  elasticity,  never  responded  to  the  cast 
of  an  angler.  And  yet  it  is  one  of  the  plain  sort, 
of  medium  cost  and  beauty,  like  some  fast  steppers 
you  occasionally  meet  with,  u  nothing  to  look  at 
but  great  to  go."  It  springs,  with  mathematical 
exactness,  from  tip  to  butt,  and  only  requires  the 
gentlest  effort  to  launch  out  a  sufficient  cast  to 
cover  any  pool  of  ordinary  circumference.  Two 
of  our  party  had  superfine  split  bamboos,  upon 
whose  construction  as  much  skill  had  been  dis- 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  195 

played  as  money  could  command  ;  but  they  both 
discarded  them,  after  faithful  and  fatal  trial,  for 
rods  the  counterpart  of  my  own,  with  the  most 
satisfactory  results.  And  yet  there  are  those  who 
prefer  the  bamboo ;  and  some  of  the  best  anglers 
of  my  acquaintance  use  no  other.  But  all  bamboo 
rods  are  not  alike  any  more  than  all  rods  of  solid 
woods.  The  handsomest  rod  I  ever  owned,  of 
foreign  make  at  that,  and  which  was  pronounced 
by  all  who  ever  examined  it  to  be  as  good  in  qual- 
ity as  in  looks,  proved  to  be  worthless.  After 
using  my  favorite  rod,  it  was  like  casting  with  a 
hoop-pole,  and  has  taught  me,  what  all  men  are 
taught  sooner  or  later,  never  to  trust  to  appearances, 
either  in  fishing-rods  or  men. 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

DOWN  THE  RIVER RUNNING  THE  RAPIDS A  WORD 

OF  WARNING HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

And  now,  scholar,  with  the  help  of  this  fine  morning  and 
your  patient  attention,  I  have  said  all  that  my  present  mem- 
ory will  afford  me.  *  *  But  I  shall  long  for  the  month  of 
May;  for  then  I  hope  again  to  enjoy  your  beloved  company 
at  the  appointed  time  and  place.  And  now  I  wish  for  some 
somniferous  potion  that  might  force  me  to  sleep  away  the  in- 
termitted time,  which  will  pass  away  with  me  as  tediously  as 
it  does  with  men  in  sorrow ;  nevertheless  I  will  make  it  as 
short  as  I  can  with  my  hopes  and  wishes.  *  *  These 
thoughts  have  been  told  you  that  you  may  also  join  in  thank- 
fulness to  the  Giver  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift,  for  our 
happiness.  *  *  So,  scholar,  I  will  stop  here. —  [Sir  Izaak 
Walton. 


UR  week's  sojourn  at  the  Forks 
passed  away  "like  a  tale  that  is 
told  ; "  but  its  memory,  like  "  a 
thing  of  beauty,"  will  remain  to 
us  "a  joy  forever."  It  was  an 
uninterrupted  carnival  of  pleas- 
ure. If  all  nature  had  combined 
to  minister  to  our  happiness,  we 
could  not  have  been  made  more 
supremely  content;  and  in  a  spirit  scarcely  less 
devout  than  that  which  moved  the  Psalmist, 
we  often  exclaimed,  "  Our  cup  runneth  over ; '' 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  197 

"  surely  mercy  and  peace  hath  followed  us  all  the 
days  of  our  "  sojourn  in  these  quiet  places. 

The  morning  after  our  torch-light  review  of  the 
salmon  pools  was  cloudless  and  serene.  The  grand 
old  forest  seemed  the  temple  of  silence.  The  air 
was  full  of  the  sweet  odors  of  pine  and  wild- 
flowers,  and  the  early  morning  light  came  down 
through  the  dense  foliage  like  a  divine  benediction. 
The  pleasant  murmur  of  the  running  waters,  blend- 
ing with  the  plaintive  chirp  and  whistle  of  the 
wood-bird,  went  down  into  the  heart  like  the  still 
small  voice  of  the  Spirit,  awakening  tender  emo- 
tions of  gratitude  and  thanksgiving.  To  the  de- 
vout mind,  these  vast  forest-temples  are  the  best 
types  of  that  other  temple  "  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens,"  whose  ineffable  glories  are 
yet  to  break  upon  the  enraptured  vision  of  the 
redeemed. 

The  sun  was  just  scattering  his  golden  dust  upon 
the  green  foliage  which  gives  beauty  to  the  rugged 
summit  of  "  Big  Berry  Mountain,"  when  the  Gen- 
eral issued  his  order  to  embark.  It  was  hard  to 
say  "good-by"  to  a  place  where  we  had  enjoyed 
so  many  days  of  superb  angling  and  so  many  even- 
ings of  joyous  camp-life.  But  the  tenth  of  August 
—  the  end  of  our  permit,  and  practically,  of  the 
fishing  season — had  arrived  and  we  must  needs  go 
home.  So,  with  a  sigh  and  a  farewell  to  this  place 


198  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

of  pleasant  memories,  with  a  salute  from  our  only 
rifle  and  a  cheer  from  all  of  us,  we  swept  out  into 
the  swift  current,  and  were  "  homeward  bound." 

"What  a  contrast  to  our  tedious  ascent  was  this 
seaward  journey  !  Our  light  canoes  glided  through 
the  water  like  birds  in  the  air.  Although  there 
are  many  "  stretches "  unbroken  by  rapids,  there 
is  no  point  on  the  river,  from  its  source  to  tide- 
water, where  the  current  does  not  move  quite  four 
miles  an  hour.  The  first  nine  miles  were  mostly 
of  this  quiet  character,  and  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive of  anything  more  delightfully  exhilarating 
than  the  movement  through  such  waters  on  such  a 
morning  as  that  in  which  we  made  the  journey. 
It  was  the  very  poetry  of  motion.  The  sun  was 
without  a  cloud ;  the  air  was  just  of  the  tempera- 
ture one  would  like  to  bask  in  forever ;  the  foli- 
age still  sparkled  with  the  dew  of  the  morning; 
the  mountains  were  aglow  with  sunlight,  while 
midway  of  their  summits  the  early  mists  hung  in 
great  silvery  masses,  forming  pictures  which 
dwarfed  the  grandest  handiwork  of  man,  and 
awed  us  with  their  vastness,  their  grandeur  and 
their  indescribable  beauty.  Every  bend  of  the 
river  revealed  some  new  landscape  to  admire,  while 
the  chirp  and  whistle  and  song  of  ten  thousand 
wood-birds  found  responsive  melody  in  our  own 
glad  hearts.  It  was  no  surprise  to  me  that  my  com- 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  199 

pardons  gave  occasional  expression,  in  shout  and 
song,  to  their  ecstatic  emotions ;  and  if  I  responded 
in  kind,  it  was  simply  because  it  was  quite  impos- 
sible to  refrain  from  giving  some  audible  token  of 
my  entire  sympathy  with  them.  It  is  not  often 
one  reaches  such  a  condition  of  mind  and  body  as 
to  find  himself  in  perfect  accord  with  the  poet : 

One  sip  of  this 

Will  bathe  the  drooping  spirits  in  delight 
Beyond  the  bliss  of  dreams. 

Such  moments,  however,  occasionally  come  to 
every  one  of  us,  but  never  more  impressively 
than  when  surrounded  by  the  sublime  and  beauti- 
ful in  nature  ;  when  enveloped  in  an  atmosphere 
charged  with  the  very  elements  of  perpetual 
youth,  serene  and  balmy  as  the  breath  of  God. 
Where  more  than  in  the  solitudes  of  the  forests 
are  these  emotions  likely  to  come  to  the  spirit  of 
the  thoughtful  and  devout  ?  The  Psalmist  had  a 
glimpse  of  what  wTas  attainable  amid  such  sur- 
roundings, when  he  exclaimed : 

4iOh,  that  T  had  wings  like  a  dove  !  for  then  would  I  fly 
away,  and  be  at  rest. 

"  Lo !  then  would  I  wander  far  off,  and  remain  in  the  wilder- 
ness." 

In  six  hours  we  compassed  the  distance  which 
required  two  days  of  hard  work  to  accomplish 
when  moving  against  the  current.  The  flight 


200  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

down  the  numerous  rapids  was  intensely  exciting. 
It  requires  a  quick  eye  and  a  steady  hand  to 
run  the  chute  in  safety.  But  accidents  are  rare. 
The  Indian  guides,  who  were  born  on  the  river, 
are  as  familiar  with  every  hidden  bowlder  and 
every  dangerous  eddy  as  the  denizen  of  the  city  is 
with  the  pathway  to  his  place  of  business,  and 
they  take  their  canoes  safely  through  channels 
where,  if  directed  by  the  uninitiated,  they  would 
be  inevitably  dashed  into  fragments.  As  a  rule,  it 
is  perfectly  safe  to  go  where  an  Indian  is  willing 
to  take  you.  He  has  just  that  sort  of  discreet 
courage  which  leads  him  to  keep  as  far  from  dan- 
ger as  possible  ;  and  he  will  never  take  his  canoe 
into  waters  he  is  not  quite  sure  he  can  safely  navi- 
gate. I  only  once  insisted  that  my  guide  should 
go  through  a  channel  which  he  pronounced  unsafe. 
He  obeyed  orders  under  protest,  wondering  at  my 
foolhardiness  and  temerity.  The  result  of  the 
experiment  may  have  given  him  a  favorable  opin- 
ion of  my  courage,  but  I  am  sure  it  depreciated 
his  previous  estimate  of  my  good  sense.  The 
sensation  was  somewhat  thrilling  as  we  dashed 
through  the  boiling  cauldron,  but  it  was  purchased 
at  the  expense  of  saturated  garments  and  a  half- 
filled  canoe.  But  for  the  almost  superhuman  ef- 
forts of  the  faithful  fellow  we  would  have  been 
inevitably  swamped,  if  not  badly  bruised  and  bat- 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  201 

tered  by  the  jagged  rocks  which  everywhere 
show  themselves  in  the  midst  of  these  impetuous 
rapids.  I  never  again  asked  my  Indian  to  take  me 
where  he  didn't  wish  to  go  himself. 

After  a  short  stop  at  our  first  camp,  the  capture 
of  a  few  more  salmon  in  Shedden  pool,  and  the 
proper  packing  of  our  camp  equipage  to  be  in 
readiness  for  our  hoped-for  visit  next  June,  we 
"  reeled  up  "  and  were  off.  We  had  had  a  month 
of  rest  and  enjoyment  such  as  can  only  be  attained 
in  the  solitudes  of  the  forest  and  on  a  river  famous 
for  the  magnificence  of  its  scenery  and  the  size, 
vigor  and  kingly  character  of  its  fish. 

And  just  here,  in  closing  up  these  rambling 
sketches,  it  may  be  proper  to  remind  some  of  my 
readers  of  the  old  adage  that  "  what  is  one  man's 
meat  is  another  man's  poison."  It  is  not  conclu- 
sive that  because  angling,  with  its  pleasant  con- 
comitants, affords  the  highest  pleasure  to  the  few, 
that  it  would  be  found  equally  attractive  to  the 
many.  It  may  not  be  true  to  the  extent  assumed 
by  good  old  Sir  Izaak,  that  to  become  an  expert 
angler  or  a  true  poet,  one  "  must  be  born  so."  But 
it  is  true  that  peculiar  tastes  are  necessary  to  the 
full  enjoyment  of  any  special  pastime.  The  man 
who  is  only  happy  in  a  crowd,  would  soon  become 
tired  of  the  stillness  and  solitude  of  the  forest. 
He  who  finds  his  chief  pleasure  amid  the  luxuries 
26 


202  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

and  ornamentations  of  artificial  life,  would  speedily 
weary  of  the  cloud-capped  mountain,  the  shadow 
of  the  woods,  the  melody  of  the  singing  waters, 
the  cheery  abandon  of  camp-life,  the  informal 
and  unostentatious  courtesy  and  pleasant  conversa- 
tion of  the  "  simple  wise  men  "  who  find  delecta- 
tion in  these  quiet  places.  Every  angler  has  mel- 
ancholy memories  of  this  fact  —  the  recollection 
of  many  spoiled  vacations  by  reason  of  the  uncon- 
genial companionship  of  "  dear  friends  "  who  had 
mistakenly  fancied  that  what  gave  pleasure  to 
others  could  not  fail  to  contribute  to  their  own 
happiness.  But  on  trial,  instead  of  pleasure  they 
found  only  ennui  y  and  by  their  evident  discom- 
fort they  rendered  every  one  about  them  as  miser- 
able as  they  were  themselves.  And  this,  not  be- 
cause they  were  not  au  fait  in  all  the  courtesies 
and  proprieties  of  social  life,  nor  yet  because  they 
were  indifferent  to  the  happiness  of  others,  but 
simply  because  their  tastes  were  not  in  harmony 
with  their  surroundings,  and  so  were  disappointed 
in  the  realization  of  their  high  anticipations. 

I  would,  therefore,  recommend  no  one  to  seek 
pleasure  from  a  protracted  sojourn  in  the  woods, 
either  with  rod  or  rifle,  until  he  tests  his  tastes  by 
brief  excursions.  If  he  so  enjoys  a  few  days 
"  under  canvas  "  that  he  longs  for  a  repetition  of 
the  pleasure,  he  may  reasonably  hope  that  a  month 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  203 

on  a  salmon  river  would  not  be  tedious.  But,  as 
you  regard  your  own  comfort  and  the  comfort  of 
others,  do  not  assume  that,  because  your  friend 
finds  his  highest  pleasure  in  the  practice  of  the 
gentle  art,  you  also  must  needs  be  happy  in  its 
pursuit. 

To  give  variety  to  our  trip  we  took  carriages 
from  New  Richmond  for  a  thirty-mile  ride  along 
the  borders  of  the  Bay  of  Chaleur ;  and  we  en- 
joyed it  greatly.  Almost  the  whole  distance  is  a 
continuous  village,  and  nearly  all  the  houses  are 
the  abodes  of  men  who  make  a  precarious  living 
by  catching  and  curing  codfish  for  the  markets  of 
the  world.  For  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  this  has  been  the  chief  occupation  of  all  the 
residents  of  this  coast.  The  result  is  extreme  pov- 
erty and  —  contentment.  The  men  of  to-day  live 
and  labor  as  their  fathers  had  done  through  many 
generations.  This,  however,  can  be  said  for  them 
—  they  are  the  most  polite  people  on  the  continent. 
Meet  whom  you  would,  man  or  boy,  on  foot  or 
borne  along  in  his  rickety  cart  or  jaunty  calash, 
no  matter,  you  were  sure  of  a  graceful  greeting. 
During  our  ride  of  thirty  miles,  in  no  single 
instance  was  this  act  of  courtesy  forgotten.  It 
was  a  custom  I  had  met  nowhere  else  in  all  my 
wanderings. 

Taking  the  steamboat  at  Paspebiac,  we  had  a 


204  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

pleasant  two  days'  sail  through  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence  to  Quebec,  thence  by  rail  to  Montreal 
and  home  —  grateful  for  what  we  had  enjoyed, 
and  hopeful  of  the  return  of  another  season  when 
we  shall  again  be  able  to  "  go  a-fishing." 


TROUT  FISHING  IN  THE  ADIRONDACK^ 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

VISIT   TO   THE   ADIRONDACK^    IN    18^3 WHEN  TO 

FISH A    STATE    PARK FOREST   MEDICINE. 

Angling  is  somewhat  like  poetry :  men  are  to  be  born  so — 
I  mean  with  inclinations  to  it,  though  both  may  be  height- 
ened by  discourse  and  practice.  But  he  that  hopes  to  be  a 
good  angler  must  not  only  bring  an  inquiring,  searching,  ob- 
serving wit,  but  he  must  bring  a  large  measure  of  hope  and 
patience,  and  a  love  and  propensity  to  the  art  itself.  But 
having  once  got  and  practiced  it,  then  doubt  not  but  that 
angling  will  be  so  pleasant  that  it  will  prove  to  be,  like  vir- 
tue, a  reward  to  itself. — [Sir  fgaaJt  Walton. 


HAVE  discovered  that  many  beside 
experts  take  pleasure  in  reading 
whatever  is  said  in  praise  of  ang- 
ling. They  have  the  good  taste 
to  appreciate  a  healthful  amuse- 
ment which  they  have  not  the 
leisure  to  enjoy.  I  made  this  dis- 
discovery  many  years  ago,  when 
I  began  a  series  of  letters  from 
"The  Woods,"  which  I  kept  up 
without  intermission  until  that  summer  of  disas- 
ters when  McClellan  led  so  many  of  our  brave 
boys  to  defeat  and  death.  It  seemed  like  mockery 
to  draw  pleasant  pictures  or  speak  of  personal 


208  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

enjoyments  when  the  whole  nation  was  in  tears, 
when  ten  thousand  Rachels  were  weeping  for 
their  children,  and  when  the  shadow  of  death 
hung  like  a  pall  over  the  whole  land.  So,  from 
that  time  to  this  I  have  made  no  record  of  these 
delightful  excursions.  Although  I  have  been  thus 
silent  for  so  many  years,  with  the  exception  of  a 
single  summer  (of  sad  memory),  I  have  been  per- 
mitted to  enjoy  my  month's  sport,  always  awaiting 
its  coming  with  longing,  and  always  entering  upon 
it  with  new  zest  and  ever-growing  pleasure. 

It  was  weary  waiting  this  year  for  "  the  time  of 
the  singing  of  birds "  to  come.  The  spring  was 
more  backward  than  for  twenty  years.  The  snow 
lingered  in  the  woods  until  far  on  in  May,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  middle  of  the  month  that  experi- 
enced anglers  deemed  it  worth  while  to  wet  their 
lines  in  any  of  the  waters  of  the  Adirondacks.  For 
be  it  known  to  all  novices  in  the  art,  and  to  all 
who  hope  to  become  used  to  the  ways  of  trout,  and 
experts  in  their  capture,  that  the  best  sport  only 
comes  after  the  snow-water  has  disappeared  and  the 
streams  have  acquired  their  natural  clearness  and 
placidity.  High  water  is  not  desirable,  even  for 
spring  fishing ;  but  it  is  not  fatal  to  success.  One 
has  only  to  know  the  ground  he  traverses,  and  the 
best  points  at  different  seasons,  to  gather  success 
even  with  full  banks;  but  a  flood  is  not  to  be 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

coveted.  The  best  results  are  attainable  in  the 
spring  when  the  water  is  falling,  and  in  the  sum- 
mer when  it  is  rising.  I  have  fished  in  vain  in 
August  through  a  whole  day,  at  the  outlets  of 
favorite  streams,  where,  after  a  rain,  I  have  taken 
trout  in  great  numbers.  A  sharp  summer  shower, 
by  raising  the  brooks,  brings  down  the  feed  from 
the  upper  waters,  and  the  trout,  who  know  when 
it  rains  as  well  as  the  angler,  concentrate  to  gather 
the  harvest  sent  to  them.  He  is  fortunate  who  is 
at  hand  to  avail  himself  of  such  occasions. 

In  all  this  region  the  ice  usually  disappears  from 
the  lakes  between  the  middle  and  close  of  April, 
and  I  have  sometimes  started  out  on  the  first  of 
May  to  begin  my  spring's  fishing.  But  this  year 
it  was  the  9th  of  May  before  the  ice  succumbed, 
and  the  15th  found  the  snow  still  intact  on  the 
shaded  hill-sides  and  through  all  the  valleys.  It 
was  tedious  waiting;  but  there  is  an  end  to  all 
things,  even  to  a  tardy  spring  and  the  chilling 
relics  of  a  long  winter. 

As  soon  as  the  ice  leaves,  you  may  hope  for  suc- 
cess in  trolling.  Lake-trout  are  a  gamey  fish,  and 
their  capture  affords  exciting  sport  to  those  who 
like  it ;  but  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  monoton- 
ous and  unartistic.  Given  a  proper  length  of  line, 
weight  of  sinker,  strength  of  rod,  and  an  intelli- 
gent guide,  an  expert  seems  to  have  no  advantage 
27 


210  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

over  a  novice,  except  in  the  single  act  of  landing 
the  fish  after  he  strikes.  Unlike  fly-fishing,  it 
affords  no  muscular  exercise,  no  constantly  recur- 
ring excitement,  no  skillful  casting,  no  delicate 
manipulation,  and  none  of  the  thrill  which  follows 
the  rise  and  rush  of  the  fish  for  the  lure  which 
rests  upon  the  surface  of  the  water.  And  yet  it  is 
a  pleasant  pastime,  healthful  and  invigorating,  af- 
fording ample  opportunity  for  reading  and  medi- 
tation, and  bringing  before  the  eye  ever-changing 
views  of  the  grand  old  mountains  and  forest-clad 
valleys  which  constitute  the  attractiveness  and 
beauty  of  all  this  region.  When  the  "  grasshopper 
shall  become  a  burden,"  when  "  those  that  look  out 
of  the  windows  shall  be  darkened,"  when  "the 
keepers  of  the  house  shall  tremble,"  when  my 
"right  hand  shall  forget  its  cunning,"  and  when 
1  shall  no  longer  be  able  to  wade  the  mountain 
stream  or  cast  a  fly,  if  Providence  shall  thus  gently 
lead  me  homeward,  I  shall  doubtless  find  delight 
in  this  less  robust  and  less  exhilarating  amusement. 
But,  meanwhile,  I  shall  leave  the  troll  to  those 
whose  waning  vigor,  neglected  education,  imma- 
ture tastes  or  blissful  ignorance  render  them  con- 
tent with  this  primary  branch  of  the  angler's  art. 

The  "signs"  which  mark  the  advent  of  the 
"  good  time  "  longed  for  through  seven  months  of 
weary  winter  and  tardy  spring  —  the  budding  of 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  211 

flowers  and  the  blossoming  of  fruit-trees  —  having 
come,  with  a  single  companion,  and  with  an  elastic 
buoyancy  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  the  traditional 
rheumatic  propriety  of  time-wrinkles  and  silvered 
locks,  we  moved  off,  on  the  23d  of  May,  for  that 
Eden  of  Anglers,  where  nature  unadorned  excels 
in  picturesqueness  and  grandeur,  as  well  as  in  vast- 
ness  and  magnificence,  all  the  noted  parks  and  pre- 
serves which  have  acquired  their  attractiveness  and 
beauty  through  the  genius,  taste  and  affluence  of 
man.  And  I  trust  that  this  vast  forest  may  never 
be  less  a  forest  than  it  is  to-day.  The  movement 
recently  initiated  to  declare  it  and  hold  it  in  perpe- 
tuity as  a  state  park,  marks  the  wisdom  of  those 
who  made  the  suggestion,  is  in  harmony  with  the 
spirit  of  the  age,  and,  a  century  hence,  if  now 
inaugurated,  will  be  recognized  as  the  highest  proof 
of  the  wisdom,  sagacity  and  foresight  of  the  states- 
men of  our  time.  And  this  not  simply  because  it 
would  thus  remain  forever  a  resort  for  the  sports- 
man and  invalid,  but  because  it  would  remain  for- 
ever, as  it  is  to-day,  the  abundant  feeder  of  several 
of  our  navigable  rivers,  and  the  best  guarantee,  as 
science  assures  us,  of  that  equable  temperature  and 
uniform  rain-fall  which  are  so  essential  to  the  ma- 
terial prosperity  of  the  State.  The  arguments  in 
favor  of  the  proposition  are  irresistible  to  all  but 
those  who  contemn  the  logic  of  science  and  "  take 


212  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

no  thought "  for  the  generations  to  come,  who 
will  follow  us  with  their  blessings  or  their  maledic- 
tions according  as  what  we  project  or  accomplish 
is  petty  and  injurious  or  grand  and  beneficent. 

Many  wonder  that  veteran  anglers  so  often  enter 
this  vast  solitude  alone,  or  with  but  one  or  two 
companions.  The  answer  is  easy.  It  is  impossible 
for  men  of  radically  dissimilar  tastes  in  minor  mat- 
ters to  always  enjoy  each  others'  companionship  in 
the  compulsory  intimacy  of  camp-life.  The  slight- 
est exhibition  of  uneasiness,  discontent  or  impa- 
tience is  sufficient  to  cast  a  shadow  upon  the  whole 
camp,  and  excite  perpetual  apprehension  lest  the 
programme  of  the  day  shall  run  counter  to  the 
wishes  of  some  of  "  the  crowd."  One  who  goes 
into  the  woods  to  find  a  respite  from  the  rasping 
collisions  of  business  or  professional  life,  does  not 
like  to  encounter  disharmonies  in  the  very  solitude 
where  he  had  thought  to  find  repose.  It  would 
not  be  difficult  to  pick  up  a  score  of  good  fellows, 
enthusiastic  anglers  and  excellent  companions ;  but 
it  would  be  difficult  to  find  half  that  number  who 
would  be  always  in  harmony  on  the  minor  points 
of  camp-life.  There  are  some  who  desire  to  be 
always  moving  and  others  who  are  satisfied  wher- 
ever the  surroundings  are  pleasant  and  fishing  tole- 
rable —  who  are  content  with  the  poorest  "  luck," 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  213 

and  who  find  their  highest  enjoyment  in  killing 
trout  in  the  most  improbable  places. 

It  was  not  until  the  25th  of  May  that  the  bud- 
ding flowers  and  fruit-tree  blossoms  gave  token  that 
the  time  had  come  when  one  might  hope  for  suc- 
cess in  angling  in  these  prolific  waters.  It  was  a 
pleasant  day,  clear  and  sunny,  just  such  a  day  as 
one  likes  to  have  when  starting  out  upon  a  journey, 
whether  of  business  or  of  pleasure.  A  brief  run 
to  Whitehall,  and  a  quiet  night-ride  through  Lake 
Champlain  brought  us  to  Plattsburg,  the  gate-way 
to  the  wilderness. 

The  road  from  thence  to  the  Saranac  lake,  twenty 
miles  by  rail  and  thirty-five  by  wagon  over  a  fair 
road,  opens  up  a  constant  succession  of  grand 
mountain  views,  making  the  ride  one  of  the  most 
agreeable  and  picturesque  to  be  found  within  the 
compass  of  the  State. 

Martin's  hostelry,  which  has  been  quadrupled  in 
dimensions  since  1  first  visited  it  fifteen  years  ago, 
is  located  at  the  foot  of  the  lower  Saranac,  and  is 
one  of  the  two  or  three  really  excellent  resting- 
places  in  the  wilderness.  My  only  present  objec- 
tion to  it  is  that  it  too  much  resembles,  in  its  ser- 
vice and  appointments,  the  "  first-class  "  hotels  of 
our  more  fashionable  watering-places.  But  so  we 
go.  No  sooner  do  we  find  a  pleasant  place  where 
we  can  literally  "  take  mine  ease  in  mine  inn,"  and 


214  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

walk  about,  if  one  so  pleases,  in  slippers  and  shirt- 
sleeves, than  presto,  silk  trails,  patent-leather  boots 
arid  kid  gloves  drive  us  elsewhere  to  find  simple 
comfort,  unincumbered  by  stately  formalities  and 
white  cravats.  But  Martin  deserves  the  prosperity 
he  is  enjoying  ;  and  he  knows  so  well  "  how  it  is 
himself,"  that  he  always  reserves  "  space  and  verge 
enough  "  in  his  ample  mansion  to  permit  the  unos- 
tentatious and  quietly  disposed  angler  to  enjoy 
himself  in  his  own  way  without  disturbing  the  less 
simple-minded  guests  who  come  hither  to  breathe 
the  pure  mountain  air  and  renew  their  youth. 

Notwithstanding  the  nonsense  Murray  and  others 
have  written  about  the  beneficent  influence  of  a 
trip  through  the  Adirondacks  upon  the  health  of 
hopeless  invalids,  the  real  invalids  —  those  who 
require  home-like  repose  as  well  as  change  of  air 
—  have  generally  too  much  good  sense  to  believe 
that  an  exhausting  journey,  exposed  to  all  sorts  of 
weather  and  to  inconveniences  and  hardships  un- 
bearable without  very  considerable  vitality,  can,  by 
possibility,  be  beneficial.  To  be  sure,  the  year  suc- 
ceeding the  publication  of  Murray's  book,  not  a  few, 
standing  on  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  were  de- 
luded into  the  hope  that,  if  they  could  but  manage 
to  drag  themselves  or  to  be  dragged  from  the  Sara- 
nacs  to  the  Fulton  range,  they  would,  by  some 
undefinable  process,  experience  the  miracle  of  a 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  215 

resurrection.  But  after  a  few  had  suffered  miser- 
ably and  others  had  died  in  the  effort,  the  delusion 
vanished,  and  now  the  very  sick  wisely  conclude 
that  while  the  pure  atmosphere  of  this  region  is  of 
real  service,  it  has  no  such  miraculous  power  as 
has  been  attributed  to  it.  They  find  that  to  be 
benefited  by  it  they  must  seek  the  comfort  and 
repose  of  a  well  appointed  dwelling  rather  than 
the  discomforts  and  inconveniences  of  camp-life, 
and  that  where  there  is  serious  illness,  "  there  is 
no  place  like  home."  In  the  initiative  of  disease, 
when  the  system  is  enervated  by  overwork  of 
muscle  or  brain,  it  will  derive  lasting  benefit  from 
a  summer's  sojourn  here.  But  it  would  be  far 
better  if  those  thus  suffering  should  make  this 
pilgrimage  before,  rather  than  after,  their  malady 
becomes  chronic. 

I  had  never  before  been  so  late  in  my  spring 
trip  to  the  woods.  But  I  knew  too  much  of  the 
habits  and  haunts  of  the  trout  to  waste  my  time 
by  calling  upon  them  before  their  house  was  in 
order  or  before  they  were  in  the  humor  to  give  us 
a  cordial  reception.  On  reaching  Martin's,  I 
found  a  score  of  disappointed  fishermen,  bewailing 
the  degeneracy  of  the  waters  and  the  scarcity  and 
shyness  of  the  fish.  Because  they  had  always 
previously  had  luck  early  in  May,  they  could  not 
understand  why  they  should  now  fish  in  vain. 


216  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

fished  they  ever  so  expertly.  I,  of  course,  did  my 
best  to  comfort  them,  and  assured  them  of  good 
sport  if  they  had  the  patience  to  wait  for  it,  but 
that  they  might  as  well  expect  to  find  full-blown 
lilies  upon  the  surface  of  a  frozen  lake  as  brook- 
trout  in  the  rising  mood  while  the  streams  were 
roiled  by  the  fast-flowing  snow-water. 

A  few  sunny  days  after  the  25th  accomplished 
what  was  needful.  Fish  may  be  caught  in  the 
lakes,  by  trolling,  as  soon  as  the  ice  disappears,  but 
even  lake-trout  are  lazy,  or  "  hug  the  bottom," 
until  they  are  quickened  into  life  or  lured  to  the 
surface  by  sunshine  and  warm  weather.  As  I  am 
writing,  I  notice  a  very  pleasant  letter  in  the 
Journal  of  Commerce,  from  a  venerable  angler,  in 
which  he  plaintively  refers  to  his  ill-luck  early  in 
May.  And  his  experience  was  the  experience  of 
every  one.  It  was,  this  year,  the  25th  before  there 
was  good  fishing.  All  who  came  in  earlier  were 
disappointed ;  and  those  who  took  their  departure 
before  the  30th,  doubtless  did  so  with  the  false  im- 
pression that  here  as  elswhere,  trout  fishing  was 
"  played  out."  If  so,  they  were  simply  mistaken. 
The  present  generation  of  anglers  will  be  "  played 
out "  long  before  trout  fishing  in  the  Adirondacks. 
To  be  sure,  the  scamps  who  placed  pickerel  in  Long 
Lake,  and  the  Fish  Commissioners  who  planted 
black  bass  in  the  Eaquette  did  what  they  could  to 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  217 

accomplish  this  result ;  but  there  will  be  trout  in 
those  waters  long  after  those  who  perpetrated  this 
folly  shall  have  passed  over  their  rods  and  reels  to 
their  successors. 

The  high  water  caused  by  the  dam  at  Setting- 
Pole  rapids  is  working  great  mischief  in  all  this 
region.  It  has  caused  the  overflow  of  tens  of 
thousands  of  acres.  The  result  will  be  that  the 
beauty  of  the  Raquette  and  its  connected  lakes 
will  be  marred  by  the  destruction  of  the  beautiful 
evergreens  and  maples  which  line  their  banks,  and 
which  have  rendered  them  so  wonderfully  attrac- 
tive and  picturesque.  But  this  is  not  all.  The 
receding  waters  in  midsummer  must  leave  this 
whole  region  a  reeking  mass  of  decaying  vegeta- 
tion, filling  the  air  with  fever-exciting  miasma,  and 
making  a  sojourn  in  the  midst  of  it  exceedingly 
hazardous.  Its  effects  are  already  seen  in  the 
thousands  of  dead  trees  which  mar  the  beauty  of 
the  river's  banks,  and  the  coming  August  will 
demonstrate  its  pernicious  influence  upon  the  com- 
fort and  health  of  visitors,  and  the  scattered  resi- 
dents upon  its  borders.  If  the  effects  apprehended 
are  realized,  the  dam  will  be  abated  as  a  nuisance, 
by  lawful  process  or  otherwise  —  unless  indeed  the 
threatened  suits  for  damages  by  parties  aggrieved 
shall  induce  its  owners  to  rid  themselves  of  trouble- 
some litigation  by  destroying  the  dam  themselves. 

28 


218  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

Anglers  are  chiefly  aggrieved  by  this  obstruction 
to  the  free  flow  of  the  water  because  it  has  de- 
stroyed several  favorite  trout-haunts  —  notably 
Cole's  Point  and  Lothrop's  Chopping,  where  for 
many  years  I  have  had  my  best  spring  fly  fishing. 
The  eight  or  ten  feet  artificially  added  to  the  body 
of  the  water  have  so  changed  the  currents  of  the 
river  that  they  are  no  longer  gathering  places  for 
trout.  But  in  spite  of  this  desecration,  these  old 
waters  still  afford  ample  amusement  for  those  who 
fish  them  patiently  and  with  moderate  skill. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


FOREST    WANDERINGS ECCENTRICITIES    OF    MEMORY 

—  A   LONG    CONTEST. 

Look  you  !  here  is  a  trout  will  fill  six  reasonable  bellies. — 
[Sir Izaak  Walton. 


I  HE  lower  Saranac  is  closely  fished, 
but  it  still  affords  good  sport  with 
the  troll.  The  lake-trout  are  gen- 
erally of  medium  size,  varying 
from  two  to  eight  pounds,  and 
occasionally  running  as  high  as 
ten  and  twelve.  There  are  not 
many  lakes  in  the  woods  so  per- 
sistently fished,  and  not  many 
which  make  better  returns  to  the  patient  angler. 
There  are  a  few  gentlemen  who  seldom  go  beyond 
it  and  its  connected  waters,  notably  the  vener- 
able Mr.  ARNOLD,  of  Keeseville,  whose  nearly 
fourscore  years  are  kept  mellow  by  the  time 
he  gives  to  this  healthful  recreation.  Others,  who 
have  reached  the  sear-and-yellow-leaf  time  of 
life,  would  find  their  setting  sun  reflecting  back 
a  cheerier  light  if  they  would  imitate  his  good 
example. 


220  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

In  August  there  is  not  much  better  fly  fishing  in 
all  these  woods  than  can  be  had  in  Cold  and  Ray 
brooks,  which  empty  into  the  Saranac  within  a  few 
miles  of  Martin's ;  and  the  trout  are  large  as  well 
as  abundant.  But  only  a  few  stop  to  fish  there, 
hoping,  often  mistakenly,  that  a  longer  journey 
will  insure  them  better  sport.  But  many  "go 
farther  and  fare  worse."  In  the  spring,  however, 
to  "  go  farther  "  is  a  necessity,  as  these  brooks  are 
not  worth  visiting  before  midsummer. 

I  have  very  pleasant  recollections  of  my  two 
visits  to  them,  last  year  and  the  year  before,  far  on 
in  the  month  of  August.  Lying  some  three  or 
four  miles  off  from  the  straight  line  to  the  Ra- 
quette,  I  had  not,  until  two  years  ago,  deemed  it 
worth  while  to  experiment  in  new  waters  during 
the  brief  time  I  take  in  August,  and  so  had  always 
previously  pushed  on  to  my  old  haunts,  but  not 
always  to  my  entire  satisfaction. 

The  spring  is  the  time  for  exploration,  and  I 
find  no  greater  pleasure  than  in  following  my  pilot 
over  untrodden  paths,  with  no  other  guide  than  is 
afforded  by  the  pocket  compass  or  the  blazed  tree. 
The  tramp  is  sometimes  wearisome,  but  always 
charming,  both  in  anticipation  and  in  realization. 
As  I  look  back  upon  these  excursions,  a  thousand 
delightful  reminiscences  come  to  me  as  freshly  and 
as  vividly  as  if  some  of  them  did  not  reach  back 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  221 

more  than  a  score  of  years  —  long  before  my  locks 
were  frosted  or  my  vision  dimmed ;  recollections 
of  shady  nooks,  where  rays  of  sunlight  came  down 
through  the  rustling  leaves  like  lines  of  silver ;  of 
huge  masses  of  gray  rock,  imbedded  in  thick  moss, 
softer  and  more  inviting  than  the  luxurious  divans 
of  the  drawing-room ;  of  the  "  expressive  silence  " 
of  the  old  woods,  when,  after  the  ascent  of  some 
rugged  hill,  we  sat  down  to  rest,  indifferent,  amid 
such  surroundings,  to  the  admonitions  of  prudence 
or  the  march  of  time.  Enveloped  in  a  golden  sun- 
set, with  the  forest  birds  making  the  woods  vocal 
with  their  sweet  melody,  and  with  my  own  heart 
in  unison  with  all  these  harmonies  of  nature,  I 
have  often  found  myself,  with  no  other  feelings 
than  those  of  devout  reverence  and  gratitude,  re- 
peating the  words  of  the  Psalmist:  "How  excel- 
lent is  thy  loving  kindness,  O  God !  therefore  the 
children  of  men  put  their  trust  under  the  shadow 
of  thy  wing." 

It  is,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  spring  time  that  I 
make  these  diversions  from  the  beaten  path,  and 
I  have  more  than  once  thus  discovered  unfished 
waters,  where,  since  "  the  morning  stars  sang  to- 
gether," no  line  had  been  cast  or  trout  captured. 
They  remain  as  sunny  places  upon  the  map  of  my 
memory,  and  are  often  revisited,  although  now  up- 
on the  borders  of  some  of  them  may  be  seen  the 
hunter's  camp  and  the  fisherman's  shanty. 


222  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

And  talking  of  memory,  what  a  wonderful 
faculty  it  is !  How  drolly  things  long  forgotten 
sometimes  come  back  to  us,  without  effort  and 
without  thought,  like  a  vision,  as  if  the  events  of 
ten  or  twenty  years  agone  had  occurred  but  yester- 
day! The  books  are  full  of  curious  instances. 
1  have  a  few  not  in  the  books,  but  apropos  to  my 
theme,  and  which,  while  I  am  moving  slowly  on 
my  way  to  the  Raquette,  may  afford  some  one  a 
moment's  amusement. 

One  morning,  twenty  years  ago,  while  encamped 
on  the  Fourth  lake  of  the  Fulton  range,  I  was  sit- 
ting on  a  freshly  fallen  spruce  tree  adjusting  my 
reel  for  work,  when  the  ever-welcome  and  long 
waited  for  call  to  breakfast  was  sounded.  I  hur- 
riedly laid  aside  the  reel  and  responded  to  the  call. 
On  sitting  down  to  the  table  I  found  a  disagreeable 
quantity  of  the  exudations  of  the  spruce  tree  adher- 
ing to  my  fingers.  It  troubled  me  to  remove  it, 
and  what  with  that  and  the  pleasures  of  the  table, 
I  was  totally  unable,  afterward,  to  remember  where 
I  had  left  my  reel,  and  was  obliged  to  provide 
another  for  my  day's  fishing.  Two  years  after- 
ward I  chanced  to  camp  on  the  same  spot,  and 
while  idly  moving  about  I  discovered  a  hacked 
spruce  tree  from  which  had  exuded  large  globules 
of  gum,  clear  as  crystal.  In  breaking  it  off,  some 
particles  unpleasantly  adhered  to  my  fingers,  when, 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  223 

like  a  flash,  all  the  incidents  of  the  old  time  came 
to  my  mind,  and  without  a  moment's  hesitation  I 
walked  to  the  old  spruce  tree  where  I  had  then 
been  adjusting  my  reel,  and  picked  it  up  on  the 
very  spot  where  it  had  fallen  two  years  before. 

Here  is  another  instance :  More  than  fifty  years 
ago,  when  a  very  little  fellow,  in  company  with 
others,  I  was  lost  in  the  woods.  After  many  miles 
of  weary  wandering  we  came  out  upon  a  clearing, 
half  famished.  But  the  only  food  we  could  pro- 
cure with  which  to  appease  our  hunger  was  boiled 
potatoes  and  salt  pickles.  They  must  have  been 
delicious,  for  to  this  day  I  never  see  a  potato  and 
pickle  in  juxtaposition  without  being  carried  back 
these  fifty  years,  and  see  directly  before  me  the 
earth-covered  potato-heap  from  which  the  "boil- 
ing "  was  taken,  the  begrimmed  pork  barrel  out  of 
whose  ponderous  depths  the  pickles  were  abstracted, 
and  the  huge  "  crane "  which  swung  across  the 
huger  chimney  within  whose  ample  "jams"  the 
potato-pot  was  boiled.  I  have  had  a  penchant  for 
potatoes  and  pickles  ever  since. 

Still  another  :  One  who,  before  disease  had  laid 
its  heavy  hand  upon  him,  was  wont  to  accompany 
me  upon  all  my  angling  excursions,  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  become  the  possessor  of  a  counterfeit 
five-dollar  bill.  As,  poor  fellow,  his  heart  was 
always  fuller  of  kind  thoughts  and  generous  pur- 


224  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

poses  than  his  pocket-book  of  bank  bills,  he  very 
naturally  racked  his  brain  to  remember  from  whom 
he  had  obtained  the  rascally  counterfeit.  Months 
afterward  it  was  still  in  his  wallet,  and  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  showing  it  to  his  friends  to  test  their 
skill  as  judges  of  genuine  currency.  On  one  occa- 
sion, more  than  a  year  after  he  became  the  posses- 
sor of  the  bill,  an  expert  pointed  out  to  him  a  tiny 
spot  upon  it,  which,  to  the  expert,  furnished  incon- 
testible  proof  of  its  character.  In  bringing  the 
bill  close  to  his  eyes  to  discover  the  defect  to  which 
his  friend  had  directed  his  attention,  he  held  it 
near  his  nostrils  and  instantly  detected  the  odor  of 
fresh  beef.  After  a  second  sniff,  he  stepped  back 
with  an  air  and  attitude  as  tragic  and  as  artistic  as 
ever  Forrest  assumed  in  his  role  of  Metamora,  and 
exclaimed : 

"  I  now  do  know  the  sanguinary  wretch 

Who  thus  hath  tricked  me  of  iny  honest  gains ; 

And  by  the  rood  [he  meant  rod]  which  gentle  Izaak  plied, 

I'll  make  the  fiend  disgor-r-r-ge. 

This  bill  came  to  me  from  my  butcher  !  " 
And  such  was  the  fact.  The  delinquent  remem- 
bered having  missed  a  counterfeit  five  which  he 
had  kept  hidden,  as  he  supposed,  but  which,  by 
some  accident,  had  found  its  way  into  the  till 
which  contained  genuine  money.  My  friend  has 
thought  well  of  his  nose  ever  since. 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  225 

But  who  has  not  passed  through  a  like  experi- 
ence, where  the  odor  of  a  flower,  the  swing  of  the 
arm,  a  single  note  of  long  forgotten  music,  the 
curve  of  a  fence,  a  flash  of  lightning,  the  whistle 
of  the  winter's  wind,  a  smile,  a  sigh,  a  laugh,  a 
word,  a  tone  has  brought  back  scenes,  friends, 
incidents  and  situations  which,  but  for  these 
fleeting  reminders,  would  have  remained  buried 
in  the  memory  until  the  coming  of  that  more 
mysterious  transition  when  "all  we  ever  did  or 
said  or  felt  shall,  like  a  marshaled  host,  pass  in 
full  review  before  the  immortal  mind." 

And  now  having,  during  this  little  bit  of  irrele- 
vancy, passed  over  the  five  miles  which  intervene 
between  Martin's  and  the  river  entrance  to  Cold 
and  Ray  brooks,  where  I  went  the  last  two  Au- 
gusts, I  wish  only  to  say  that,  in  the  proper  season, 
they  will  afford,  with  moderate  skill  and  patience, 
such  sport  as  is  rarely  vouchsafed  to  any  angler 
anywhere.  At  least,  such  was  my  experience  two 
years  ago,  when  during  a  short  afternoon  I  landed 
from  a  deep  pool  in  Cold  brook  fifty  splendid 
trout,  and  fished  three  hours  for  one.  It  was  on 
this  wise :  For  an  hour  or  more  before  sunset,  a 
trout  which  I  estimated  to  weigh  more  than  three 
pounds  kept  the  water  in  constant  agitation  and 
myself  in  a  fever  of  excitement.  I  cast  for  him  a 
hundred  times  at  least.  With  almost  every  cast  he 
29 


226  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

would  rise,  but  would  not  strike.  He  would  come 
up  with  a  rush,  leap  his  full  length  out  of  the 
water,  shake  his  broad  tail  at  me  as  if  in  derision, 
and  retire  to  repeat  his  aggravating  exploits  as 
often  as  the  fly  struck  the  water.  Other  trout  rose, 
almost  his  equal  in  dimensions,  and  were  taken, 
but  their  capture  soon  ceased  to  afford  me  the 
slightest  pleasure.  The  sun  was  rapidly  declining. 
"We  had  eight  miles  to  row,  and  prudence  dictated 
a  speedy  departure.  But  I  was  bound  to  land  that 
trout  "if  it  took  all  summer."  I  tried  almost 
every  fly  in  my  book  in  vain ;  I  simply  witnessed 
the  same  provoking  gyrations  at  every  cast.  If, 
however,  I  threw  him  a  grasshopper  disconnected 
from  my  line,  he  would  take  it  with  a  gulp ;  but 
the  moment  I  affixed  one  to  the  hook  and  cast  it 
ever  so  gently,  up  he  came  and  down  he  went 
unhooked,  with  the  grasshopper  intact.  I  was 
puzzled,  and  as  a  last  resort  I  sat  quietly  down 
hopeless  of  achieving  success  so  long  as  light 
enough  remained  for  the  wary  fellow  to  detect  the 
shadow  of  rod  or  line.  The  sun  soon  set.  Twi- 
light gently  began  its  work  of  obscuration,  and  in 
due  time  just  the  shadow  I  desired  fell  upon  the 
surface  of  the  pool.  I  then  disrobed  my  leader  of 
its  quartette  of  flies,  put  on  a  large  miller,  and 
with  as  much  caution  as  if  commissioned  to  sur- 
prise a  rebel  camp,  and  with  like  trepidation,  I 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  227 

chose  my  position.  Then,  with  a  twist  of  the 
wrist  which  experts  will  comprehend,  I  dropped 
my  fly  as  gently  as  a  zephyr  just  where  the  mon- 
ster had  made  his  last  tantalizing  leap,  when,  with 
the  ferocity  of  a  mad  bull  and  with  a  quick  dash 
which  fairly  startled  me  in  the  dim  twilight,  he 
rose  to  my  miller,  and  with  another  twist  of  the 
wrist,  as  quick  and  as  sudden  as  his  rise,  I  struck 
him  !  I  have  been  present  in  crowds  when  grand 
victories  have  been  suddenly  announced,  and  when 
my  blood  has  rushed  like  electric  currents  through 
my  veins  as  I  joined  in  the  spontaneous  shout  of 
the  multitude,  but  I  have  passed  through  no  mo- 
ment of  more  intense  exhilaration  than  when  I 
knew,  by  the  graceful  curve  of  my  rod  and  by  the 
steady  tension  of  my  trusty  line,  that  I  was  master 
of  the  situation.  He  pulled  like  a  Canastoga  stal- 
lion, and.  "  gave  me  all  I  knew  "  to  hold  him  with- 
in the  restricted  circle  of  the  deep  pool,  whose 
edges  were  lined  with  roots  and  stumps  and  things 
equivalent.  It  was  an  half  hour's  stirring  contest, 
and  the  hooting  of  the  owl  in  the  midst  of  the 
darkness  which  enveloped  us  was  the  trout's  re- 
quiem. When  I  had  landed  him  and  had  him 
fairly  in  quad,  will  it  be  deemed  silly  for  me  to  say 
that  I  made  the  old  woods  ring  with  such  a  shout 
as  one  can  only  give  when  conscious  of  having 
achieved  a  great  victory  ? 


CHAPTEE  XXYIII. 


SILENT    MEN A   LONG    LOOK    AHEAD COCKNEY 

FISHERMEN TROUT    HABITS. 

Think  not  silence  the  wisdom  of  fools,  but,  if  rightly  timed, 
the  honor  of  wise  men  who  have  not  the  infirmity  but  the  vir- 
tue of  taciturnity,  and  speak  not  of  the  abundance,  but  of  the 
well-weighed  thoughts  of  their  hearts.  Such  silence  may  be 
eloquence  and  speak  thy  worth  above  the  power  of  words, 
Make  such  a  one  thy  friend,  in  whom  princes  may  be  happy 
and  great  counsels  successful.  Let  him  have  the  key  of  thy 
heart  who  hath  the  lock  of  his  own,  which  no  temptation  can 
open  ;  where  thy  secrets  may  lastingly  lie,  like  the  lamp  of 
Olybius  his  urn,  alive  and  light,  but  close  and  invisible. — 
[Sir  T.  Browne. 

At  Trout-Hall,  not  far  from  this  place,  where  I  propose  to 
lodge  to-night,  there  is  usually  an  angler  that  proves  good 
company.  And  let  me  tell  you  that  good  company  and  good 
discourse  are  the  very  sinews  of  virtue. — [Sir  Izaak  Walton. 


my  frequent  journey  ings  through 
these  pleasant  lakes  and  rivers,  with 
no  other  companion  than  my  guide, 
I  have  learned  to  understand  how 
really  loquacious  are  silent  men  of 
meditative  mood.  For  hours  to- 
gether they  make  no  sign ;  and  but 
for  an  occasional  smile,  which  pass- 
es like  a  ripple  of  sunshine  across 
their  composed  and  peaceful  features,  they  might 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

be  deemed  as  unconscious  and  as  unsusceptible 
as  the  iron  row-locks  whose  monotonous  music 
makes  regular  record  of  the  march  of  time. 
But  their  silence  is  only  in  seeming.  They 
are  all  the  while  holding  sprightly  mental  conver- 
sation with  absent  friends,  with  favorite  authors, 
with  the  mountains  and  forests  and  lakes  which 
surround  them,  or  are  rehearsing  some  pleasant 
incident  of  field  or  flood  to  some  sympathizing  ac- 
quaintance, who  is  as  really  present,  giving  atten- 
tive audience,  as  if  separated  from  them  by  but  an 
arm's  length  instead  of  a  hundred  miles.  I  have 
seen  such  thoughtful  wise  men  startled  from  their 
re  very,  who  seemed  surprised  that  they  were  not 
surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  companions.  This  power 
of  abstraction  is  a  rare  and  pleasant  gift.  It 
differs  in  itself  and  in  its  possessors  from  absent- 
mindedness,  which  with  me  is  always  associated 
with  glum  moroseness,  or  at  least  with  an  absence 
of  joyous  geniality.  But  the  j oiliest-hearted  may, 
under  favoring  circumstances,  be  abstracted,  and 
wake  up  from  his  revery  without  losing  a  single 
ray  of  the  pleasant  sunshine  with  which  his  happy 
countenance  is  always  illumined.  It  is  not  so  with 
the  chronically  absent-minded,  who  may  be  heavy- 
browed  but  vinegar-visaged  and  constitutionally 
morbid,  and  who  would  no  sooner  think  of  angling 
than  of  robbing  the  exchequer  of  the  realm. 


230  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

An  editor's  life  is  neither  the  best  nor  the  worst 
in  which  to  cultivate  this  rare   gift.     There  are 
those  in  the  profession  who  can  so  concentrate  their 
thoughts  that  even  the  pertinacious  pleadings  of  a 
score  of  office-seekers  cannot  tangle  the  thread  of 
their  meditations;  and  sometimes  even  the  least 
gifted  among  us  have  to  throw  off  sentences  amid 
such  persistent  din  that  Bedlam  itself  would  seem 
the  abode  of  silence.     What  little  of  the  art  came 
to  me  by  nature  and  compulsory  practice  has  been 
strengthened  by  the  opportunities  for  silent  medi- 
tation afforded  by  the  habit  of  angling.     My  guide, 
who  knew  and  humored  my  moods,  was  not,  there- 
fore, greatly  startled  when,  in  passing  the  approach 
to  Cold  brook,  I  broke  the  long  silence  with  the 
very  unintelligible  exclamation:    "He  was  a  cun- 
ning old  rat."     It  was  the  climax  of  a  half  hour's 
cogitation  upon  the  protracted  waiting  and  watch- 
ing which  finally  resulted  in  the  capture  of  the 
three-pound   trout  in  the  form  and   manner  re- 
counted in  my  last  chapter.    My  guide  very  quietly 
responded  (as  if  instinctively  divining  the  subject 
of  my  meditations)  to  my  involuntary  observation 
with  the  simple  question :    "  Did  you  land  him  ? " 
And  then  I  became  as  voluble  as  I  had  before  been 
silent  in  recounting  to  him  the  incident  already 
related  to  my  readers.     And  just  this  is  the  thread 
upon  which  I  have  strung  this  bit  of  "  abstraction." 


PLEASURES   OF    ANGLING.  231 

At  the  rapids,  about  midway  between  the  lower 
and  middle  Saranac  lakes,  there  is  as  pretty  a  place 
from  which  to  cast  as  can  be  found  in  the  world. 
You  stand  upon  solid  rock,  slightly  elevated  above 
the  rapid-flowing  stream,  and  can  throw,  if  you 
have  the  skill,  without  fear  of  bush  or  brake,  an 
hundred  feet.  It  is  the  first  opportunity  one  has, 
en  route,  after  his  long  winter's  rest,  to  shake 
out  the  wrinkles  of  disuse.  I  sometimes  wonder 
whether,  on  some  pleasant  day  in  May,  not  long 
hence,  I  shall  stand  on  this  sunny  spot,  where  1 
have  stood  during  some  portion  of  every  season 
these  twenty  years,  and  find,  in  attempting  to 
make  my  usual  cast,  that  my  "  right  hand  has  for- 
got its  cun;iing."  As  old  age  cools  the  blood  and 
dims  the  vision,  and  checks  the  elasticity  of  brain 
and  limb,  such  thoughts  sometimes  come  to  the 
most  buoyant,  and  often  cast  a  shadow  across  the 
sunniest  landscape.  But  it  is  only  a  shadow.  With 
the  thought  comes  up  the  vision  of  another  river, 
brighter  and  clearer  and  purer  than  that  which 
flows  with  such  gentle  gracefulness  at  my  feet  — 
"a  pure  river  of  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal, 
proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the 
Lamb."  It  is  a  vision  which  reconciles  all  thought- 
ful anglers  to  the  quick-coming  time  when  these 
pleasant  places,  which  now  know  them,  shall 
know  them  no  more  forever. 


232  PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

For  the  first  time  in  all  my  experience,  I  had  no 
response  here  to  my  persistent  appeals  for  a  rise. 
There  were  a  hundred  spots  within  easy  cast, 
which  looked  inviting.  By  some  undefinable  asso- 
ciation, I  found  myself  parodying  that  pleasant  old 
song,  "  A  Cot  in  the  wood  " —  probably  because  of 
the  applicability  of  two  of  its  lines  to  my  present 
surroundings : 

"  And  I  said,  '  If  there's  trout  to  be  found  in  the  world. 
The  hand  of  an  expert  may  hope  for  them  here.'  " 

But  if  they  were  "here,"  they  failed  to  respond. 
I  tried  eddy  and  current,  rapid  and  pool,  deep 
water  and  shallow,  all  to  no  purpose.  With  a 
"Well,  this  is  strange,"  I  reeled  up,  took  my 
accustomed  seat  and  moved  off  as  disconsolate  as  a 
disappointed  seeker  of  office.  It  was  some  con- 
solation to  learn,  as  I  did  soon  afterward,  that  two 
or  three  novices  had  been  "  sloshing  'round  "  the 
rapids  and  still  water,  with  bait  and  troll,  for 
several  hours  before  our  arrival,  and  had  just  left 
as  we  landed.  They  may  have  caught  some  fish, 
but  it  is  a  marvel  to  me  often  how  some  of  the 
visitors  to  these  waters  ever  "  get  a  bite."  They 
use  rods  large  enough  for  a  shark,  lines  like  minia- 
ture bed-cords,  hooks  seemingly  made  for  the  nose 
of  the  leviathan,  with  sinkers  which  fall  into  the 
water  with  a  splash  which  would  frighten  any 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  233 

sensible  trout  "  out  of  his  propriety."  But,  some- 
how such  fellows  do  lure  fish  to  their  ponderous 
bait ;  and  that  they  do  so  is  the  strongest  evidence 
that  could  possibly  be  given  of  the  abundance  of 
trout  still  remaining  in  these  waters. 

But  lest,  from  what  I  have  said  of  my  want  of 
success  at  this  favorite  spot  on  this  occasion,  some 
who  remember  it  as  pleasantly  as  I  do  myself,  may 
heave  a  sigh  of  regret  at  its  degeneracy,  I  had  better 
say  right  here,  although  a  little  out  of  consecutive 
order,  that  on  my  return  three  weeks  afterward,  I 
found  it  to  be  "  all  my  fancy  painted  it,"  and  all 
my  long  previous  experience  had  found  it  to  be. 
It  was  getting  well  on  in  the  afternoon,  we  had 
ten  miles  to  row,  and  I  was  as  nearly  satiated  with 
angling  as  I  ever  expect  to  be,  but  I  could  not  fore- 
go the  opportunity  to  make  a  cast  or  two  as  we 
dashed  through  the  rapids  homeward.  The  first 
throw  brought  a  fine  fish  to  the  surface.  I  struck 
him  as  gently  as  the  law  of  angling  permits,  and 
duly  landed  him.  Another  and  another  and  an- 
other, in  rapid  succession,  came  at  my  call  with  a 
promptness  and  a  rush  which  renders  this  last  half 
hour  of  my  three  weeks'  fishing  a  very  pleasant 
memory.  A  dozen,  gorgeous  in  their  beauty,  lay 
at  my  feet  with  a  dozen  more  "  making  the  water 
boil"  in  their  eagerness  to  "get  in  out  of  the 
wet ; "  but  I  had  no  use  for  them,  and  with  a 

30 


234          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

merry  nod  to  the  trout  and  a  long  look  at  the  old 
rock  we  left  behind  us,  we  reeled  up  and  went  on 
our  way  rejoicing. 

There  are  several  points  between  these  rapids 
and  Bartlett's,  five  miles  distant,  where  any  one 
unused  to  these  waters,  and  the  habits  of  trout, 
would  expect  success  at  any  season  —  deep  spring 
holes  and  cold  brook  outlets.  But  it  is  only  a 
waste  of  time  to  fish  them  before  the  first  or  mid- 
dle of  July.  Trout  have  their  summer  watering 
places  as  well  as  tourists ;  and  it  is  not  until  the 
heated  denizens  of  the  towns  and  cities  begin  to 
move  off  toward  Newport  and  Saratoga  that  these 
aristocratic  tenants  of  our  inland  brooks  and  rivers 
leave  the  rapids  and  "  riffs  "  for  the  cooler  retreats 
of  deep  pools  and  refreshing  spring  holes. 

This  is  one  of  the  first  lessons  I  learned  in  the 
art  of  angling.  I  had  ridden  fifty  miles  over  a 
rough  road  on  a  hot  day  in  August,  to  a  stream 
where,  according  to  the  universal  verdict,  trout 
were  as  "  plenty  as  blackberries."  I  placed  myself 
under  the  guidance  of  a  gentleman  whom  I  sup- 
posed "  knew  the  ropes  "  and  upon  whom  it  would 
be  safe  to  lean.  Early  on  the  morning  after  reach- 
ing our  destination,  following  his  lead,  I  plunged 
into  the  stream  —  translucent  as  the  atmosphere 
—  and  began  to  whip  right  and  left,  for  a  rise. 
Occasionally  we  would  be  rewarded  by  the  capture 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING.          235 

of  an  ounce  trout,  who  had  evidently  "  lost  its 
mammy,"  and  so  got  lost  itself ;  but  after  wading 
some  two  miles,  we  had  not  caught  fish  enough  to 
cover  the  bottom  of  our  creels.  My  friend  was 
nonplussed,  and  so  was  I ;  but  while  far  in  the 
rear  and  quite  ready  to  vote  fishing  a  bore,  I  acci- 
dentally cast  my  fly  into  a  cozy  looking  cove,  when, 
on  the  instant,  a  pound  trout  rose  and  was  cap- 
tured. The  experiment  was  repeated  and  re- 
repeated  with  the  same  result,  when  I  called  to 
my  mentor,  announced  my  luck,  and  suggested  a 
change  of  tactics  during  the  rest  of  the  day.  I  had 
struck  a  spring  hole,  and  in  twenty  minutes  had 
caught  more  fish  than  both  of  us  had  taken  during 
the  three  hours  we  had  been  whipping  the  shal- 
lows and  "  riffs  "  in  the  center  of  the  stream.  We 
afterward  only  fished  in  spring  holes  and  at  the 
mouths  of  spring  brooks,  and  had  no  further  rea- 
son to  question  the  veracity  of  the  friends  who  had 
lured  us  thither. 

It  is  this  habit  of  the  trout  which  often  brings 
disappointment  to  the  novice.  He  fancies  that 
because  a  stream  is  a  trout-stream  that  trout  should 
be  found  at  all  seasons  in  all  parts  of  it.  But  I 
would  as  soon  think  of  looking  for  a  friend  in  an 
ice-house  in  January  as  for  a  trout  in  a  cold  spring 
hole  in  May  or  early  in  June.  They  are  then  in 
swift  and  shallow  water,  if  such  water  is  accessible, 


236  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

and  there  is  where  the  expert  looks  for  and  finds 
them.  It  would  be  just  as  useless  to  look  for  trout 
in  his  spring  haunts  in  August  as  to  look  for  him 
in  his  summer  haunts  in  May.  Intermediately, 
from  the  middle  of  June  to  the  middle  of  July, 
they  are  on  the  move.  It  is  their  transition  period, 
when  they  are  everywhere  in  small  numbers, 
but  abundant  nowhere.  And  during  this  period 
there  are  probably  more  visitors  in  the  woods  than 
during  any  other  thirty  days  of  the  year.  If  they 
have  any  hankering  for  fish  or  any  taste  for  angling, 
they  could  not  select,  through  the  whole  season, 
any  period  less  propitious.  Hence  it  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  for  parties  in  the  woods  at  this  time  to 
find  it  absolutely  impossible  to  catch  fish  enough 
for  use.  But  this  is  not  surprising.  Experts  are 
too  wise  to  go  fishing  during  these  thirty  days, 
and  only  experts  could  lure  any  considerable  num- 
ber of  fish,  by  any  process,  while  they  are  thus 
passing  from  the  swift  waters  to  the  quiet  spring 
holes. 

It  was  my  fortune  upon  one  occasion,  when 
homeward  bound,  far  on  in  June,  to  fall  in  with  a 
party  of  six  or  eight  who  were  camped  where  a 
fortnight  before  the  trout  were  so  abundant  that  I 
could  catch  a  day's  supply  for  a  dozen  men  in  a 
couple  of  hours.  But  I  found  this  party  literally 
fishless,  and  the  most  profoundly  disgusted  group 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  237 

of  disconsolates  I  ever  saw.  Some  of  them  had 
been  there  before,  in  proper  season,  and  had  done 
splendidly ;  and  they  had  brought  their  friends 
with  them  now,  anticipating  equal  success.  I 
explained  to  them  their  mistake,  recounted  to  them 
my  own  experience  of  a  fortnight  before,  and,  out 
of  sheer  sympathy,  escorted  them  two  miles  to  a 
favorite  and  secluded  pond,  where  the  trout  are 
equally  plenty  at  all  seasons,  and  where  they  were 
made  happy  by  abundant  sport.  Not  one  of  these 
gentlemen  ever  afterward  "  fooled  away  his  time  " 
by  fishing  on  the  "rife"  when  the  trout  had 
changed  their  quarters  to  the  spring  holes. 

The  somewhat  monotonous  outlet  between  the 
lower  and  middle  Saranac  opens  into  Round  Lake, 
from  the  upper  part  of  which,  one  of  the  grandest 
mountain  views  reveals  itself  to  be  had  in  all  the 
woods.  I  have  counted  thirty  well-defined  peaks, 
the  whole  combined  by  a  series  of  gracefully  un- 
dulating curves  which  delight  the  eye  of  every 
appreciative  lover  of  nature.  My  friend  Palmer, 
the  sculptor,  carries  this  view  in  his  memory  to- 
day, and  it  will  not  be  obliterated  by  any  thing  he 
may  see  in  his  present  rambles  among  the  grander, 
but  no  more  beautiful  mountain  views  of  Switzer- 
land. 

Bartlett's  somewhat  famous  hostelry  stands  at 
the  head  of  this  lake  and  is  the  summer  resort  of 


233  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

several  greatly  esteemed  brethren  of  the  angle  — 
notably  Dr.  Romeyn,  of  Keeseville,  whose  twenty 
odd  annual  visits  to  these  woods  have  only  ren- 
dered them  the  dearer  and  the  more  attractive 
to  him.  He  has  caught  the  true  spirit  of  the  art, 
and  is  as  cheery  and  joyous  in  camp  as  he  is  genial 
and  accomplished  in  social  life.  And  so  is  William 
A.  Wheeler,  who  seeks  and  finds  here  the  repose 
and  invigoration  which  enables  him  to  discharge 
his  official  duties  at  Washington  with  such  exem- 
plary promptness  and  fidelity.  I  doubt  whether 
the  highest  office  in  the  gift  of  the  people  would 
tempt  him  for  a  moment,  if  its  acceptance  would 
deprive  him  of  the  pleasure  and  benefit  he  derives 
from  his  annual  visit  to  these  pleasant  woods  and 
waters. 

A  short  walk  takes  us  over  "  Indian  Carry,"  and 
a  short  row  across  the  lake  to  Corey's  —  where  I 
always  manage  to  dine  or  sup,  because  Mrs.  Corey 
is  the  best  cook  in  the  woods,  and  never  fails  to 
give  me  a  cup  of  coffee  as  I  taught  her  to  make  it 
fifteen  years  ago.  There  is,  besides,  generally 
some  quiet  angler  sojourning  here,  whose  company 
and  conversation  always  insures  a  pleasant  eve- 
ning. I  know  of  no  better  place  between  Platts- 
burgh  and  Potsdam  to  rest. 


CHAPTEE  XXIX. 


AN    OLD   RESIDENT FINE    SPORT A     FLY     THEORY 

EXPLODED. 

Oh  !  the  gallant  fisher's  life, 

It  is  the  best  of  any  ; 
'Tis  full  of  pleasure,  void  of  strife, 
And  't  is  beloved  by  many : 
Other  joys 
Are  but  toys, 
Only  this 
Lawful  is  ; 
For  our  skill 
Breeds  no  ill, 
But  content  and  pleasure. 

[Sirlzaak  Walton. 


from  Corey's  across  a  half 
mile  carry,  we  strike  a  series  of 
ponds  which  empty  through  Stony 
brook  into  the  Raquette.  Many 
years  ago,  when  I  first  came  here, 
this  carry  was  covered  with  a  dense 
growth  of  beautiful  pines.  But, 
the  demand  for  lumber  was  too 
pressing  to  be  resisted,  and  this 
still  delightful  spot  is  denuded  of 
its  most  attractive  feature.  The  work  of  lumber- 
ing is  being  pushed  vigorously  within  practical 
distances  of  all  the  water-courses  of  sufficient 


240  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

volume  to  float  the  logs  to  manufacturing  points, 
of  which  Plattsburg,  Potsdam  and  Glen's  Falls 
are  the  principal.  During  the  winter  the  logs 
are  cut  and  placed  upon  the  ice,  ready  for  the 
spring  freshets,  and  from  the  time  of  breaking 
up  until  well  on  in  May,  there  is  scarcely  an 
available  stream  which  is  not  filled  with  these 
moving  masses.  And  yet  the  Kev.  Mr.  Murray, 
in  his  famous  book,  contrasting  the  Adirondacks 
with  the  forests  of  Maine,  says  of  the  former  that 
they  retain  their  primitive  beauty  because  "the 
sound  of  the  woodman's  ax  has  never  been  heard  " 
among  them.  If  the  reverend  gentleman's  theology 
is  as  loose  as  his  facts,  it  must  be  a  poor  commodity. 

But  these  annual  drafts  upon  this  wilderness  are 
scarcely  perceptible  to  the  casual  observer.  Pine 
and  spruce  and  hemlock  constitute  but  a  very  small 
percentage  of  the  entire  forest,  which  remains 
seemingly  as  dense  as  if  the  woodman's  ax  had 
really  never  been  heard  here  or  the  lumberman  had 
never  responded  to  the  demands  of  commerce. 

Stony  brook  (through  which  we  pass  to  the  Ka- 
quette)  besides  the  water  of  its  two  or  three  ponds, 
has  the  flow  from  Ampersand  brook,  which  has  its 
supply  from  Ampersand  pond,  which  lies  some  five 
miles  up  the  mountain.  The  outlet  of  this  brook 
is  famous  for  its  summer  fishing,  but  it  has  never 
been  my  fortune  to  strike  it  at  just  the  right  mo- 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING.  241 

ment  to  find  practical  confirmation  of  the  truth  of 
the  large  stories  which  are  told  about  it.  But  I  can 
believe  them,  for  its  source  and  surroundings  are 
exactly  adapted  to  make  it  a  great  gathering  place 
for  trout  during  the  hottest  of  the  summer  months. 

In  these  Stony  brook  ponds  we  have  our  first 
illustration  of  the  effect  of  the  high  dam  which  has 
recently  been  built  at  Setting  Pole  rapids.  The 
water  was  full  eight  feet  above  its  natural  level  — 
an  advantage  only  in  this,  that  it  enabled  us  to 
make  an  almost  "  straight  wake  "  for  the  Raquette, 
instead  of  following  the  indescribably  tortuous 
channel  of  the  brook. 

Near  the  point  where  this  brook  strikes  the  Ra- 
quette  there  has  resided,  solitary  and  alone,  for 
many  years,  a  man  well-known  to  the  frequenters 
of  these  woods.  His  house  is  primitive  but  quite 
spacious,  and  is  surrounded  by  forty  or  fifty  acres 
of  well  cleared  land,  of  more  than  average  produc- 
tiveness for  this  region.  Although  living  thus 
remote  from  neighbors  and  civilization,  he  is  of 
more  than  ordinary  intelligence,  of  a  philosophical 
and  metaphysical  turn  of  mind,  keeps  closely  posted 
in  regard  to  trade,  commerce,  politics  and  general 
science,  is  and  has  been  for  many  years  an  attentive 
reader,  is  hospitable,  courteous  and  eccentric.  He 
is,  withal,  an  ardent  lover  of  music,  and  before 
time  and  hard  work  had  robbed  his  digits  of  their 
31 


242  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

pliability,  nothing  gave  him  greater  pleasure  than 
to  entertain  his  guests  by  exhibitions  of  his  skill 
upon  his  favorite  instrument,  the  violin.  He  is 
the  trusted  agent  of  several  large  land-owners,  has 
more  ready  cash  (rumor  says)  than  some  of  his 
employers,  and  does  more  good  with  it  than  many 
who  make  far  greater  parade  of  their  wealth  and 
benevolence.  And  yet  he  has  neither  watch  nor 
clock  in  his  domicile.  When  the  question  was  put 
to  him :  "  Mr.  Calkins,  without  a  timepiece  of  any 
kind  in  the  house,  how  do  you  know  when  to  get 
up  ? "  "  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  always  get  up  when  it 
stops  raining" — not  a  bad  rule,  certainly,  for  a 
gentleman  whose  business  does  not  require  him  to 
imperil  his  health  by  exposing  it  to  the  weather.  I 
think  I  discovered  in  my  last  visit  that  the  old  gen- 
tleman was  less  fond  of  his  solitary  life  than  for- 
merly, and  yearned  anxiously  for  the  society  which 
he  enjoyed  in  his  youth  and  which  is  so  essential 
to  one's  comfort  in  old  age.  When  he  does  leave 
these  woods,  he  will  be  missed,  for  he  has  been  a 
pleasant  companion  to  a  great  many  anglers,  who 
appreciated  his  character  and  peculiarities. 

The  row  down  the  Raquette,  with  its  overflowed 
banks  and  strong  current,  was  extremely  pleasant. 
There  was  this  drawback,  however,  that  the  high 
water  robbed  the  river,  in  its  immediate  surround- 
ings, of  much  of  its  beauty.  We  missed  many  old 


PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

landmarks,  and  because  of  the  overflow,  passed  a 
great  many  points  where,  before  this  piece  of  arti- 
ficial vandalism  (the  high  dam  meaning)  had 
worked  its  work,  we  were  wont  to  find  our  best 
fishing.  But  after-success  made  ample  amends  for 
our  present  disappointment.  On  the  27th  of  May 
it  was  our  good  fortune  to  strike  "the  rapids"  (so 
called)  near  "  Big  Ox-bow,"  —  famous  as  a  trout 
haunt  for  a  few  days  in  the  Spring,  while  the  fish 
are  passing  up  stream  from  the  lower  waters.  We 
were  apprehensive  that  the  unparalleled  high  water 
had  destroyed  this  favorite  resort,  as  it  had  a  hun- 
dred others.  But  our  fears  were  unfounded.  I 
never  knew  the  trout  so  abundant  or  so  full  of  life. 
In  two  hours  we  killed  twenty  fish,  which  weighed 
31 J  Ibs. —  one  of  them  three  pounds  and  a  half, 
plump.  We  could  have  quadrupled  our  catch  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  had  we  been  so  disposed.  But 
we  could  not  use  them,  and  we  had  no  desire  to 
imitate  the  bad  example  of  too  many  anglers,  who 
take  fish  as  long  as  they  will  rise,  even  though  they 
are  obliged  to  leave  them  on  the  shore  to  rot. 
Many  tons  are  thus  destroyed  every  year  by  those 
who  lack  the  "  quality  of  mercy  "  which  is  inherent 
in  the  true  angler.  There  should  be  a  stringent 
law  against  such  shameful  waste.  It  is  as  deserving 
of  the  pillory  as  sheep-stealing.  Others  subse- 
quently had  great  success  at  this  same  point ;  but 


244  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

I  have  heard  of  no  two  hours'  fishing  which  ave- 
raged so  roundly. 

Greatly  pleased  with  our  success  at  "  the  rapids," 
but  desiring  to  push  on  to  other  pleasantly  remem- 
bered resorts,  we  were  soon  at  Tupper's  Lake  — 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  majestic  lakes  in  the 
wilderness.  But  there  was  no  temptation  to  remain 
long  upon  its  immediate  borders.  The  high  water 
had  so  affected  the  currents  that  many  of  the  places 
I  had  been  used  to  fish  were  no  longer  gathering 
places  for  trout.  Hence,  instead  of,  as  usual,  pass- 
ing two  or  three  days  at  these  old  camping  grounds, 
and  at  the  "  high  rocks  "  and  swift  waters  in  the 
neighborhood,  we  passed  them  by  with  a  single 
cast  or  two,  to  one  of  which  a  pickerel  responded, 
a  sigh  and  a  smothered  malediction  (in  the  spirit  of 
Uncle  Toby),  and  pushed  on  past  "Peter's  Rocks" 
to  "  Setting  Pole  Rapids,"  where  I  have  always 
had  finer  sport  than  at  any  other  point  in  the  wil- 
derness. I  was  not  at  all  sanguine  now,  because  I 
did  not  know  what  effect  the  dam  had  had  upon 
the  depth  and  flow  of  the  water  below  it.  But  at 
the  first  cast  my  doubts  were  dissipated.  The 
response  was  prompt  and  vigorous,  and  for  a  week 
I  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  an  angler's  paradise,  of 
which  more  anon. 

I  first  visited  these  rapids  fifteen  years  ago. 
Some  of  them  who  were  with  me  then  have  gone 


PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING.  245 

to  their  rest ;  among  them  my  earliest  and  trusted 
guide,  who  knew  more  of  woodcraft  and  of  angling 
than  any  man  I  ever  met.  But  George  Morse  now 
sleeps  his  last  sleep  in  the  Soldier's  Cemetery  at 
Washington,  where  his  resting-place  is  marked  by 
a  simple  head-stone,  reared  to  his  memory  by  his 
old  friend,  Gen.  Spinner,  who  was  "  one  of  us " 
during  this  first  visit,  and  whose  genial  humor  and 
happy  ways  rendered  that  particular  excursion, 
extending  from  Boonville  to  Potsdam,  ever-memo- 
rable. The  General  seldom  fished  during  the  trip, 
except  for  minnows  as  bait  for  others.  His  de- 
light was  to  gather  ferns  and  leaves  and  mosses 
and  shells  and  geological  specimens  with  which  to 
adorn  his  home  cabinet.  And  this  habit,  with  all 
his  exhausting  labors  as  treasurer  of  the  United 
States,  he  has  kept  up  from  that  day  to  this.  Those 
who  visit  his  private  office  in  the  treasury  building 
at  "Washington  will  find  its  walls  lined  with  beau- 
tiful clusters  of  these  treasures  of  nature,  all  of  his 
own  gathering.  They  mark  the  simple  tastes  and 
habits  of  the  man  through  whose  hands  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  millions  have  passed  during  the 
last  twelve  years  without  a  single  dollar  adhering 
unlawfully  to  his  fingers.  Would  he  be  what  he 
is  in  the  responsible  office  he  holds  had  he  not  first 
acquired  the  simple  habits  of  an  honest  angler? 
His  jealous  care  of  his  responsible  trust  now  pre- 


246          PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

vents  him  from  visiting  the  North  Woods ;  but  he 
still  "goes  a-fishing."  There  are  few  points  on 
the  Potomac,  within  easy  reach  of  Washington, 
where  he  has  not  angled.  This,  with  his  daily 
botanising,  is  his  only  recreation.  He  is  an  enthu- 
siastic lover  of  nature,  and,  in  his  moments  of  lei- 
sure, takes  great  delight  in  discoursing  of  fish  and 
fishing.  When  he  goes  to  his  long  home,  the  peo- 
ple will  lose  an  honest  and  diligent  servant,  and 
the  fraternity  of  anglers  an  appreciative  and  genial 
companion. 

It  was  during  this  first  visit  to  these  rapids  that 
the  pretty  conceit  was  dissipated  that  the  angler 
who  had  the  greatest  variety  of  flies  stood  the  best 
chance  of  success.  It  had  been  my  pride  to  ex- 
hibit my  fly-book  to  wondering  admirers,  and  to 
pass  glowing  eulogies  upon  the  artistic  skill  of 
McBride,  of  Caledonia,  whose  deft  manipulation  of 
silk  and  feather  made  him  in  those  days  famous 
wherever  delicate  angling  was  a  recognized  accom- 
plishment. There  was  no  fly  which  his  observa- 
tion had  ever  suggested  or  his  imagination  ever 
conceived,  of  which  I  had  not  samples.  Many  of 
them  were  the  most  perfect  imitations  possible  of 
the  prolific  productions  of  nature,  but  others,  in 
their  gorgeous  beauty,  might  have  been  worshipped 
without  trenching  upon  the  limits  of  idolatry. 
Yet  they  were  all  labeled  taking  flies  in  their  sea- 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING.          247 

son !  When  I  had  faith  in  the  idea  that  all  luck 
depended  upon  the  use  of  exactly  the  right  fly  for 
the  time  and  the  occasion  —  for  early  morning  and 
for  the  close  of  day,  for  sunshine  and  shade,  for 
fair  weather  and  foul,  for  still  water  and  rapids, 
for  shallow  water  and  pools,  for  river  and  brook, 
and  for  this  and  for  that  interminably, —  I  was 
kept  pleasantly  busy  two-thirds  of  my  time  hunt- 
ing for  the  right  fly  to  take  trout  where  no  trout 
lay  to  be  taken. 

On  first  reaching  these  rapids  many  years  ago, 
it  chanced  that  I  had  lost  my  leader  by  carelessly 
using  my  fly-line  as  a  troll  through  the  still  water. 
A  large  fish  had  taken  one  of  the  flies  when  I  ex- 
pected no  such  visitor,  and  by  a  careless  movement 
of  my  rod,  fish,  leader  and  fly  incontinently  retired 
in  indissoluble  union,  to  come  back  to  me  no  more 
forever.  My  tackling  was  in  a  boat  far  in  the 
rear,  and  I  had  no  patience,  with  the  inviting  rap- 
ids and  promising  eddies  before  me,  to  await  its 
coming.  I  had  "  in  my  mind's  eye,  Horatio,"  just 
the  dazzling  ibis  I  wished  to  use.  I  was  sure  that 
that  and  nothing  else  would  bring  abundant  grist 
to  my  mill.  But  I  had  no  ibis,  and  was  about  to 
give  up  in  sullen  silence,  and  await  the  arrival  of 
the  tardy  rear  guard  for  what  I  deemed  to  be  in- 
dispensable to  success,  when  my  guide  suggested  a 
combination  of  red  and  blue  flannel  as  a  substitute. 


248  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

He  had  the  red  and  I  had  the  blue.  An  ordinary 
fish-hook,  a  penknife  and  a  few  twists  of  silk  did 
the  business.  The  extemporized  fly  was  made  up, 
adjusted,  cast  and  taken  as  quickly  as  I  have  told 
the  story,  and  far  more  successfully.  The  red  and 
blue  flannel  lure,  and  the  half  score  of  trout  I  took 
with  it,  dissipated  all  my  fine  fancies  about  gor- 
geous flies,  and  ultimately  reduced  my  fly-book  to 
a  half  dozen  varieties  suitable  for  spring  or  sum- 
mer, shady  or  sunny  days  and  shallow  or  deep 
water.  But  even  these  are  practically  reduced  to 
two  or  three,  notably  the  brown  and  black  hackle, 
the  red  ibis,  the  miller  for  evening,  and,  for  very 
swift,  deep  water,  a  large  purple  and  red  nonde- 
script. And  yet  I  would  advise  all  experts  to  keep 
a  well-filled  fly-book.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  experi- 
ment, and  the  educated  eye  takes  delight  in  look- 
ing at  the  variety  of  colors,  shapes  and  forms 
which  the  skilled  workman  in  fly-art  has  provided 
as  lures  for  the  speckled  beauties. 


CHAPTEK  XXX. 


FISHING     AT     SETTING       POLE     RAPIDS TWO     NOTE- 
WORTHY  INCIDENTS. 

PISCATOR,  Jr. —  To  come  to  this  fine  stream  at  the  head  of 
this  great  pool,  you  must  venture  over  these  slippery,  cob- 
bling stones.  Believe  me,  sir,  there  you  were  nimble  or  else 
you  were  down  !  But  now  you  are  got  over,  look  to  yourself; 
for  on  my  word,  if  a  fish  rise  here,  he  is  like  to  be  such  a  one 
as  will  endanger  your  tackle.  How  now  ! 

VIATOR — I  think  you  have  such  command  here  over  the 
fishes,  that  you  can  raise  them  by  your  hand  as  they  say  con- 
jurors can  do  spirits  and  afterward  make  them  do  what  you 
bid  them  ;  for  here's  a  trout  has  taken  my  fly  !  I  had  rather 
have  lost  a  crown.  What  luck's  this  !  He  was  a  lovely  fish, 
and  turned  up  a  side  like  a  salmon  ! — \Charles  Cotton. 


TIE  excitement  of  angling  increases 
with  the  risks  incurred.  There  is 
but  very  little  pleasure  in  taking 
a  three-pound  trout  upon  a  two- 
pound  rod,  with  a  No.  9  bait  hook 
and  a  line  strong  enough  for  a 
shark.  Such  angling  requires 
neither  art  nor  skill.  But  a  three- 
pound  trout  on  a  tiny  fly-hook 
attached  to  a  gossamer  leader  and 
line,  the  whole  depending  from  an  eight-ounce 
32 


250  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

rod,  and  the  trout  struggling  and  leaping  amid 
rapids  dashing  and  foaming  among  jagged  rocks  — 
that  is  an  experience  which  lifts  the  angler  "  into 
the  seventh  heaven,"  and  gives  him  such  exhila- 
rating excitement  that  it  remains  to  him  a  pleas- 
ant memory  and  "  a  joy  forever."  This  is  the 
sort  of  sport  I  always  have  at  Setting  Pole  rapids, 
and  never  in  larger  or  more  perfect  measure  than 
during  this  present  visit.  Here  are  a  few  illustra- 
tions of  the  past  and  present : 

A  few  years  ago,  before  the  dam  was  built,  to 
reach  the  best  points  for  casting  it  was  necessary  to 
stand  upon  some  one  of  the  numerous  bowlders 
which  lifted  themselves  above  the  water  at  the 
head  of  the  rapids.  When  the  water  was  well  up, 
these  standpoints  were  only  reached  over  extempo- 
rized bridges  composed  of  a  single  sapling  extend- 
ing from  rock  to  rock,  and  often  crossed  at  the 
hazard  of  a  chilling  plunge  in  the  foaming  rapids. 
I  had  reached  the  point  I  desired — a  rock  about 
the  size  and  shape  of  a  chair-bottom  and  slippery 
as  ice  from  the  wetted  moss  which  covered  its  sur- 
face. On  either  side  of  it  the  water  was  six  feet 
deep  and  very  rapid.  It  was  a  hazardous  stand 
from  which  to  cast,  but  the  most  coveted  within  a 
circuit  of  thirty  miles.  After  creeling  a  dozen  very 
handsome  fish,  I  resolved,  with  a  feeling  which 
anglers  will  appreciate,  upon  "  just  one  cast  more." 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  251 

I  made  it,  when  the  largest  trout  I  ever  saw  in 
these  waters  rolled  up  to  my  fly,  but  I  failed  to 
strike  him.  I  drew  in  and  cast  again,  and  again  he 
rose,  but  the  great  resistance  which  his  broad  side 
presented  to  the  swift  current  prevented  him  from 
overcoming  the  inch  or  two  which  intervened  be- 
tween his  open  jaws  and  my  fly.  But  the  dash  was 
so  eager  that  he  threw  himself  entirely  out  of 
water,  and  I  shouted  to  my  guide,  who  was  stand- 
ing on  the  shore  with  distended  eye  and  open 
mouth,  "  four  pounds,  if  an  ounce ! "  as  my  brown 
hackle  again  dropped  just  where  I  saw  his  broad 
fan-tail  disappear  at  his  last  rise.  Up  he  came  with 
a  rush ;  and  before  he  lost  his  ascending  momen- 
tum, I  struck  him  with  a  thud !  which  gave  me 
assurance  that  I  had  him  securely  hooked.  For  a 
moment  he  seemed  content  with  the  situation,  but 
so  soon  as  he  discovered  that  he  was  not  his  own 
master,  the  tussle  began.  I  struck  him  at  thirty 
feet,  in  deep  and  swift  but  unobstructed  water.  I 
soon  found  that  I  could  not  hold  him  just  at  the 
point  I  desired,  and  was  obliged  to  give  him  line. 
All  went  on  finely  for  ten  minutes.  My  eight- 
ounce  rod  nearly  doubled  upon  itself,  but  stood  the 
test  charmingly ;  when,  with  a  side  rush  which  I 
could  not  prevent,  he  secured  to  himself  the  whole 
force  of  the  current,  and  was  distant  a  hundred 
feet  in  an  instant.  Within  ten  feet  of  the  point  he 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 

had  thus  reached  was  a  cluster  of  rocks  and  a  fall 
from  which  I  must  keep  him  or  lose  him.  To  hold 
him  was  like  holding  an  unruly  colt  with  a  halter, 
and  I  soon  discovered  that  he  could  not  be  started 
an  inch  homeward  without  "  smashing  things"  in 
the  attempt.  As  a  last  resort  I  called  to  my  guide 
to  wade  in  and  net  him.  He  responded  at  once, 
although  the  water  reached  his  arm-pits,  and  the 
current  threatened  to  take  him  from  his  feet  at 
every  step.  To  place  the  monster  in  the  most 
favorable  position  possible,  I  gently  forced  him  to 
near  the  side  of  a  rock,  that  he  might  be  the  more 
easily  reached.  My  guide  made  an  honest  effort, 
but  in  his  excitement  he  struck  wild,  the  fish  was 
frightened  and  gave  a  spring  which  tore  off  the 
leader  and  let  my  released  rod  spring  home  with  a 
bound  which  came  near  making  me  throw  a  back 
somersault  into  the  foaming  rapids,  when  I  retired 
from  the  contest  more  heated  in  temper  and  blood 
than  I  had  been  before  in  a  twelvemonth.  But  I 
soon  became  reconciled  to  the  situation  by  arguing 
that  such  an  half  hour's  contest  was  worth  more 
than  a  thousand  trout. 

The  next  day,  from  the  same  spot,  having  four 
flies  on  my  leader,  I  hooked  four  trout,  aggregating 
five  pounds  in  weight.  In  this  swift  water  I  had 
my  hands  full.  But  in  due  time  they  were  sub- 
dued. The  most  difficult  task  was  to  land  them 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  253 

from  my  contracted  and  slippery  pedestal.  I  suc- 
ceeded, however,  by  stooping  down  carefully  and 
securing,  by  hand,  each  fish  alternately  as  he  lay  in 
the  water,  except  one,  who  broke  the  snell  by  chaf- 
ing against  the  rock. 

On  reaching  the  rapids  this  year,  I  was  not  at 
all  sanguine  of  success,  even  below  the  dam,  whose 
construction  had  made  such  sad  havoc  with  the 
best  fishing  points  above.  But  I  was  soon  relieved 
of  my  apprehensions.  I  had  a  prompt  response  to 
my  first  cast,  and  speedily  landed  a  two-pound 
trout,  the  precursor  of  many  more  of  the  same 
sort,  killed  during  our  week's  sojourn.  And  it 
was  a  week  of  supreme  satisfaction.  The  rapids 
were  full  of  trout,  large,  active  and  eager ;  and  as 
there  was  a  lumber  shanty  in  the  neighborhood, 
whose  occupants  were  quite  willing  to  receive  all 
we  sent  them,  we  could  satisfactorily  dispose  of 
the  surplus  portion  of  our  catch.  But  very  soon 
the  supply  was  in  excess  of  this  demand,  and  I 
compromised  with  my  conscience  by  throwing  back 
all  under  two  pounds.  I  dare  not  say  how  many 
were  thus  "  rehabilitated,"  but  enough,  certainly, 
to  furnish  a  rich  harvest  for  my  next  year's  visit. 

Although  I  have  had  no  such  success  in  twenty 
years  at  this  or  any  other  point  in  all  this  region, 
I  have  only  one  thing  which  anglers  would  deem 
at  all  noteworthy  to  record.  I  was  casting  with 


254-  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

my  light  fly  rod  in  the  swiftest  water,  when  1 
had  a  strike  which  indicated  unusual  muscle.  My 
click-reel  flew  round  like  a  mill-spindle.  I  an- 
swered the  call  for  "more  line"  until  a  hundred 
feet  interposed  between  my  slender  tip  and  the 
fish,  when  I  "  cried  a  halt,"  as  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  prevent  him  from  passing  over  a  rock 
which  showed  its  foam-covered  crest  in  his  imme- 
diate neighborhood.  This  I  found  a  difficult  thing 
to  do  in  such  furious  rapids,  with  the  delicate  rod 
from  which  the  line  depended.  The  heavy  strain 
upon  it  had  given  it  the  curve  of  a  perfect  semi- 
circle, and  I  was  apprehensive  that  the  addition  of 
a  single  ounce  would  prove  more  than  it  could 
bear ;  but  to  reel  up  was  a  necessity.  If  the  fish 
reached  the  impetuous  current  which  passed  on 
either  side  of  the  bowlder,  something  would  break 
in  the  effort  to  check  him.  It  was  at  this  moment, 
when  the  contest  was  at  its  height,  that  two  large 
trout  revealed  themselves  as  my  prisoners.  This 
revelation  added  to  the  interest  of  the  contest,  and 
seemed  to  render  victory  on  my  side  entirely  hope- 
less. But  after  twenty  minutes  of  such  intense 
excitement  as  only  anglers  will  comprehend,  I 
landed  them  both,  without  the  aid  of  net  or  gaff ; 
and  they  weighed  together  four  pounds  and  a  quar- 
ter, one  weighing  two  pounds,  and  the  other  two 
pounds  and  four  ounces.  It  would  have  been 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  255 

easier  to  have  landed  a  single  six-pounder.  The 
play  of  such  a  strike  is  the  acme  of  angling,  and 
would  be  received  by  any  expert  as  full  compensa- 
tion for  a  week's  journey. 

As  an  instructive  lesson  to  fly-fishers,  I  may  add 
that  the  tip  which,  with  the  care  necessary  in  such 
a  contest,  bore  this  test  of  the  excellence  of  its 
fibre,  by  being  carelessly  handled  the  next  day, 
snapped  under  the  pressure  of  a  half-pound  trout. 
The  very  best  rod-makers  are  often  anathematized 
for  the  inferior  character  of  their  material  and 
their  imperfect  workmanship,  when  the  anathema 
belongs  to  the  stupid  or  careless  angler.  This  tip 
had  served  me  faithfully  through  two  years  of 
hard  work,  and  it  would  have  served  me  other 
years  still,  but  for  the  folly  of  attempting  to  strike 
a  mere  minnow  with  the  rod  nearly  perpendicular. 
When  your  rod  exceeds  an  angle  of  forty-five,  it  is 
out  of  safe  striking  line.  Better  haul  in  for  an- 
other cast  than  risk  the  break  which  will  almost 
inevitably  follow  a  heavy  strike  beyond  that  angle. 
I  passed  this  pet  tip  into  the  depository  of  kindred 
wrecks,  with  the  feeling  which  one  experiences  in 
bidding  a  long  farewell  to  an  old  friend.  I  fear 
"  I  ne'er  shall  look  upon  its  like  again." 


256  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

ADDENDA. 

My  respected  associate,  in  a  delightful  letter 
from  Watch-Hill,  which  was  published  the  other 
day,  concedes  the  attractive  beauty  of  forest  and 
river  scenery,  and  the  invigorating  healthfulness  of 
mountain  air,  but  claims  the  palm  for  old  ocean  in 
both  respects.  A  mutual  friend,  whose  partialities 
lean  forestward,  sends  us  the  following  in  reply : 

TO  "c.  E.  s." 

I've  read  your  letter — so  you  have  a  notion 

That  mount  and  lake  must  yield  the  palm  to  ocean  ? 

Not  so,  my  boy :  I  know  you're  orthodox, 

And  one  small  text  your  talk  all  endways  knocks ! 

In  that  vast  Heaven — which  I  hope  you'll  reach — 

There  rolls  no  ocean  with  its  stretch  of  beach. 

John,  he  of  Patmos,  in  his  splendid  vision, 

Saw  no  salt  water  'mid  the  fields  elysian — 

That  "  better  country,"  which  is  out  of  sight, 

Has  streams  of  crystal  ever  fresh  and  bright ; 

But  John  bears  witness,  and  you  must  agree, 

'Mid  scenes  all  heavenly  "  there'll  be  no  more  sea.'1 

You  write  good  letters  'way  from  brick  and  mortar, 
But  your  sea-sentiment — will  not  hold  water. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

STALE  FISH IN  A  BAD  FIX KEEL   DP. 

VENATOR. —  When  I  would  beget  content,  and  increase 
confidence  in  the  power  and  wisdom  and  providence  of 
Almighty  God,  I  will  walk  the  meadows  by  some  gliding 
stream,  and  there  contemplate  the  lilies  that  take  no  care, 
and  those  very  many  other  various  little  living  creatures,  who 
are  not  only  created,  but  fed,  man  knows  not  how,  by  the 
goodness  of  the  God  of  nature,  and  therefore  trust  in  Him. 
This  is  my  purpose  ;  and  so,  "  Let  every  thing  that  hath  breath 
praise  the  Lord  :  "  and  let  the  blessing  of  St.  Peter's  Master 
be  with  mine. 

PISCATOR. —  And  upon  all  that  are  lovers  of  virtue  and 
dare  trust  in  His  providence,  and  be  quiet,  and  go  a-Angling. 
—[Sirlzaak  Walton. 


ffOWEYER  indifferent   anglers  may 
be  in  regard  to  the  ordinary  lux- 
uries of  the  table,  they  have  epi- 
curean ideas  about    fish.      A  few 
hours   makes  a  vast   difference  in 
the  flavor  of  any  fish;    b7it  with 
none  is  this  fact  more  perceptible 
than  with   trout.     Those    anglers 
mean  well  who  compliment  their 
friends  with  a  mess  of  fish  a  week  old ;  but  how- 
ever carefully  they  may  have  been  doctored  and 
packed,  they  lose  their  delicate  flavor  and  are 
33 


258  PLEASURES    OF    ANGLING. 

stale ;  and  a  siale  fish  is  an  unpalatable  morsel. 
While  camping  where  a  casting  point  was  con- 
venient (and  it  was  rare  when  this  was  not  the 
case),  we  never  deemed  it  in  good  taste  to  cook 
a  fish  for  breakfast  which  had  been  caught  over 
night.  If  there  are  trout  to  be  caught  at  all,  you 
may  be  sure  of  a  rise  in  the  early  morning ;  and 
you  are  equally  sure  of  a  delicious  breakfast  if  you 
catch  at  five  o'clock  what  you  propose  to  eat  at 
seven. 

I  have  had  a  great  deal  of  pleasant  sport  at  Pears- 
field  Falls,  the  most  picturesque  bit  of  sceneiy  in 
the  woods.  Those  who  have  visited  these  Falls 
will  remember  the  unique  ledge  which  projects 
out  upon  their  right  side.  I  have  caught  trout 
from  that  point,  at  the  very  verge  of  the  boiling 
cauldron,  until  my  arms  ached.  But  this  year  the 
water  was  too  high  to  render  that  particular  spot 
accessible,  and  I  took  to  the  boat  to  reach  a  favorite 
eddy,  where  usually  trout  gather.  To  do  so  re- 
quired a  long  cast  in  the  immediate  proximity  of  a 
mass  of  saw-logs,  which  were  swirling  like  fierce 
war-horses  in  the  rapid  current  and  surging  eddies 
which  held  them  fast  prisoners  in  their  whirling 
circle.  The  experiment,  for  a  moment,  looked  like 
a  success ;  but,  in  making  a  second  cast  for  a  good 
sized  trout  which,  at  the  first  effort,  failed  to  reach 
the  lure,  a  gust  of  wind  swept  my  leader  from  its 


PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING.          259 

course,  and  instead  of  to  the  trout,  which  seemed 
eager  to  be  taken,  my  fly  hooked  to  a  monster 
saw-log,  which  was  pursuing  its  mad  dance  in  the 
surging  eddies.  I  "  caved  "  at  the  possibility  of 
landing  so  huge  a  catch,  but  was  ambitious  to  save 
my  tackling.  The  struggle  was  protracted  and 
exciting,  being  in  doubt  whether,  instead  of  saving 
my  tackling,  we  would  not  ourselves  be  caught  in 
the  whirlpool,  upon  the  very  verge  of  which  the 
struggle  was  progressing,  and  thereby  give  our 
friends  at  home  an  opportunity  to  laugh  at  our 
mishap  or  mourn  at  our  funeral.  But,  fortunately, 
perhaps,  in  the  adventurous  spirit  which  had  seized 
us,  the  saw-log  was  the  victor.  In  making  an  un- 
usual swirl,  as  it  encountered  some  unusual  eddy, 
helped  by  the  bump  of  a  score  of  others  in  a  like 
predicament,  my  line  snapped,  and  leader  and  flies 
were  left  prisoners  of  war,  where  they  are  still  ac- 
companying these  fugitive  saw-logs  in  their  dizzy 
whirl  at  the  foot  of  Pearsfield  Falls.  A  few  small 
trout,  a  sumptuous  lunch,  a  drink  of  delicious  water 
from  one  of  the  coldest  springs  in  the  wilderness, 
and  several  hours  of  unalloyed  enjoyment,  sufficed 
to  fill  our  cup  full  of  that  quiet  sort  of  pleasure 
which  I  find  nowhere  so  abundantly  as  in  these 
quiet  forests. 

My  largest  fish  at  Setting  Pole  rapids  weighed 
three  pounds.     But  I  was  enabled  to  go  a  pound 


260  PLEASURES  OF  ANGLING. 

better  a  few  days  afterwards  at  "  Three-Pound 
Pond,"  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  clear  as  crystal, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  famous  "  Hitching' s 
Pond  " —  which  affords  the  best  August  fishing  of 
any  body  of  water  in  the  woods.  After  a  long 
siege  of  fly  casting,  with  no  other  reward  than  a 
single  fish  of  two  pounds,  I  reluctantly  resorted  to 
the  troll,  when  I  was  rewarded  with  a  four  pounder, 
the  largest  speckled  trout  I  had  ever  captured.  If 
I  had  taken  him  with  a  fly,  I  would  have  deemed 
it  ample  compensation  for  the  time  and  expense  of 
my  trip.  But  that  at  least  one  "  fish  story  "  may 
be  recorded  truthfully,  the  trolling  line  and  minnow 
are  thus  given  the  credit  which  belongs  to  them. 
I  have  often  fished  in  this  pond,  and  have  taken 
therefrom  many  large  trout,  and  it  seems  to  hold 
no  other,  but  I  have  succeeded,  after  patient  trial, 
in  taking  but  two  with  a  fly.  There  may  be  points 
where,  in  July  or  August,  the  fly  may  be  success- 
ful. But  even  this  is  doubtful,  for  the  whole  pond 
seems  to  be  a  bubbling  spring,  clear  and  cold,  rend- 
ering it  unnecessary  for  the  fish  to  seek  specially 
cool  places  in  hot  weather. 

As  usual,  I  took  a  run  to  Big  Wolf  Pond,  where 
more  large  lake  trout  have  been  taken  than  in  any 
other  water  inclosure  in  the  woods,  and  where  Dr. 
Perkins,  two  years  ago,  took  his  famous  twenty- 
seven-pounder.  But  the  glory  of  "  Big  Wolf  '• 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  261 

has  departed.  A  ten-pound  fish  is  the  largest  I 
have  heard  of  being  taken  in  its  waters  this  year, 
and  I  trolled  three  hours  without  a  strike.  It  has 
been  trolled  and  speared  and  buoyed  and  set-lined 
to  death.  It  will  soon  cease  to  be  visited  by 
any  one. 

But  while  I  found  the  pond  thus  barren,  the 
outlet  was  as  fruitful  of  large  brook-trout  and  black 
flies  as  ever.  Amid  such  a  swarm  of  the  latter  as 
would  compel  the  instant  retreat  of  any  one  not, 
as  I  was,  thoroughly  swabbed  with  tar  oil,  I  caught 
several  fish  which  weighed  two  and  three  pounds, 
the  largest  being  the  fattest  and  most  beautifully 
marked  fish  I  ever  saw. 

"  Bog  River  Falls,"  at  the  head  of  "Big  Tup- 
per,"  proved  so  attractive  that  it  held  us  in  camp 
four  days.  The  view  from  our  camping  ground, 
near  the  Falls,  in  sunshine  or  by  moonlight,  was 
entrancing.  It  revealed  to  us,  at  a  glance,  not  only 
all  the  beauties  of  this  most  beautiful  lake  itself,  but 
the  cloud-capped  summits  of  a  score  of  mountains 
besides.  "  Grand,"  "  beautiful,"  "  majestic,"  "  su- 
blime," "  transparent,"  "  translucent,"  etc.,  etc., 
could  all  be  used  with  propriety,  were  I  in  the 
descriptive  mood.  But,  as  this  chapter  is  dedicated 
to  fish  and  not  to  scenery,  it  is  only  proper  to  say 
that  the  large  trout  always  found  at  the  foot  of  the 
Falls,  behaved  handsomely,  and  graced  our  table 


262  PLEASURES   OF   ANGLING. 

daily  with  as  delicate  morsels  as  ever  melted  on 
human  palate. 

It  is,  however,  neighborly  to  warn  all  anglers 
against  the  assumption  that  because  they  may  find 
large  and  delicious  fish  at  the  foot  of  the  Falls 
there  must  be  equally  large  and  delicate  fish  up  the 
river.  It  took  several  years'  experience  to  convince 
me  that  this  idea  was  erroneous.  The  fish  up  the 
river  are  neither  large,  abundant  nor  of  delicate 
flavor.  And  the  farther  up  you  go,  the  worse  you 
are  off,  until  you  strike  Hitching' s  pond.  The 
fish  found  at  the  Falls  find  their  feed  and  growth 
and  flavor  in  Big  Tupper  and  adjacent  waters. 
There  is  something  in  Bog  river  which  causes  a 
deterioration ;  and  it  is  worse  still  in  Little  Tupper 
and  its  outlet.  There  the  fish  are  lean  and  of  poor 
flavor  —  not  in  winter  and  early  spring  alone,  for 
the  trout  of  all  waters  are  infested  with  unpalata- 
ble and  unseemly  parasites  until  they  pass  into 
the  rapids  in  the  spring — but  at  all  seasons.  This 
positive  statement  may  "  turn  the  stomachs "  of 
some  of  my  friends  who  like  to  visit  this  lake 
because  its  trout  are  sometimes  large  and  always 
abundant.  But  I  can't  help  it.  Truth  is  truth, 
and  unclean  trout  should  not  be  eaten.  Little 
Tupper  is  a  great  resort  for  deer,  and  it  will  pay 
sportsmen  to  go  there  for  them.  But  I  advise 
those  who  persist  in  complementing  their  roast 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING.  263 

venison  with  a  dish  of  speckled  trout  to  do,  not  as 
Mrs.  GLASS  suggests,  "  first  catch  and  then  cook," 
but  first  catch,  then  critically  examine,  and  then 
eat  "  with  what  stomach  you  may." 

After  a  week's  further  rambling,  with  delightful 
repetitions  of  pleasant  days,  charming  scenery  .and 
abundant  sport  —  at  Hitching' s  pond,  at  Raquette 
Falls,  Cold  river,  Big  Eock,  Split  Kock  and  other 
places  famous  for  the  abundance  and  weight  of 
their  fish  —  we  reluctantly  turned  our  faces  home- 
ward. But  not  until  we  had  had  evidence  of  the 
rapidity  with  which  pickerel  are  multiplying  in 
these  waters.  As  they  rarely  take  a  fly,  I  was  dis- 
gusted but  once  with  a  rise  from  one  of  them. 
But  those  who  trolled,  particularly  around  the 
Falls  and  in  the  vicinity  of  Cold  river,  were  con- 
stantly annoyed  by  them.  And  this  annoyance 
will  increase  every  year  (for  no  fish  multiplies 
more  rapidly,)  until  trout  fishing  in  the  Kaquette 
will  cease  to  be  the  attractive  amusement  which  it 
has  been  these  thirty  years,  and  which  it  still  is  to 
those  who  know  how  to  fish. 

I  have  all  my  life  heard  of  the  monster  fish 
caught  in  the  rivers  of  Maine,  and  although  I  have 
angled  in  almost  all  the  waters  from  Quebec  to 
Minnesota,  I  have  yet  to  experience  the  pleasure 
of  landing  a  seven-pound  trout.  This  pleasure  I 


264 


PLEASURES    OF   ANGLING. 


hope  to  enjoy  the  coming  season.*  Meanwhile  I 
bid  adieu  to  the  Adirondacks  until  another  Spring- 
time shall  return,  when,  if  all  is  well,  I  shall  again 
"  go  a-fishing." 

*  This  hope  was  realized  in  June,  '74,  in  Rangely  lake.  I  was  casting 
with  my  lightest  rod,  when  a  large  fish  struck  my  fly,  and  after  a  two 
hours'  fight  I  landed  a  genuine  brook  trout,  which  weighed  exactly 
seven  pounds.  I  have  a  fine  portrait  of  the  fish,  painted  in  oil  on 
birch  bark,  by  my  friend  Dr.  OTIS,  of  New  York,  who  was  of  the 
party.  It  is  a  beautiful  picture,  and  I  cherish  it  above  rubies. 


ys 


